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empreinte. 


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whichever  applies. 


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derniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
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symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


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required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


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filmAs  A  des  taux  de  rAduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
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WIGWAM  MD  WAR-PATH; 


OR  THE 


ROYAL  CHIEF  IN  CHAINS. 


BY 


HON.  A.   B.  MEACHi\3I,  ^ 

XX-SUFERINTENDENT  OF  INDIAN  AFFAIRS  AND  CHAIRMAN  OF  THE  LATE  MODOC 

PEACE   COMMISSION. 


dllttstrahir  bj)  portraits  of 

THE  AUTHOR,  GEN.  CANBY,  1)K.  THOMAS,  CAPT.  JACK,  SCIIONCHIK, 
SCAR-FACED  CHARLEY,  BLACK  JIM,  BOSTON  CHARLEY, 
TOBEY  AND  RIDDLE,  AND  ELEVEN  OTHER 


SPIRITED  AND  LIFE-LIKE  ENGRAVINGS 


OF  ACTUAL  SCENES    FROM    MODOC    INDIAN  LIFE,   AS 
WITNESSED  BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


SECOXD    AIV1>    R£VISE»    EMTIOX. 


'  BOSTON:^ 

JOHN    P.    DALE    AND    COMPANY, 

27  BoTLBTON   Street. 

''  .     '      _      r  1875.  r 


C.3 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1875,  by 

A.  B.  MKACIIAM, 

In  tho  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  ut  Wasbington. 


J3t(S8  of 
BOCKVELL    AND    C  II  t'ltC  II  ILIi, 

£9  Arch  Street,  Itoatun. 


PREFACE. 


♦  ♦  ♦ 


The  Hon.  A.  B.  Meaciiam  has  committed  to  me  the  difllcult 
and  delicate,  yet  delightful  task  of  revising  the  manuscript  and 
arranging  the  table  of  contents  of  the  present  work. 

I  have  endeavored  to  review  every  page  as  an  impartial  critic, 
and  have,  as  far  as  possible,  retained,  in  all  its  simplicity  and 
beaut}',  the  oingularl}  eloquent  and  fascinating  st3'le  of  the  gifted 
author.  The  changes  which  I  have  made  have  lieen,  for  the  most 
part,  quite  immaterial  —  no  more  nor  greater  than  would  be  re- 
quired in  the  manuscript  of  writers  commonly  called  "  learned." 
In  no  case  have  I  attempted  (for  the  attempt  would  have  been 
vain)  to  give  shape  and  tone  to  the  writer's  thoughts.  His  mind 
was  so  full,  both  of  the  comedy  and  the  tragedy  of  his  thrilling 
narrative,  that  it  has  flowed  on  like  a  mighty  torrent,  bidding 
defiance  to  any  attempt  either  to  direct  or  control. 

None,  it  seems  to  me,  can  peruse  the  work  without  being 
charmed  with  the  love  of  justice  and  the  fidelity  to  truth  which 
pervade  its  every  page,  as  well  as  the  manl}'  courage  with  which 
the  writer  arraigns  Power  for  the  crime  of  crushing  Weakness  — 
holding  our  Government  to  an  awful  accountabilitj'  for  the  delays, 
the  ignorance,  the  fickleness  and  treacher}-  of  its  subordinates  in 
dealing  with  a  people  whose  very  religion  prompts  them  to  wreak 
vengeance  for  wrongs  done  them,  even  on  the  innocent. 


173409 


II 


rUEFACE. 


a'li 


For  the  lover  of  romance  and  of  tlirillin^  adventure,  the  work 
possesses  a  eliarui  scarcely  equalled  by  the  enchanting  pages  of 
a  Fenniniore  Cooper ;  and,  to  the  reader  who  appreciates  truth, 
justice,  and  humanity,  and  delights  to  trace  the  outlines  of  such 
a  career  as  Providence  seems  to  have  marked  out  for  the  author, 
as  well  as  for  the  unfortunate  tril)e8  whose  history  he  has  given 
us,  it  will  be  a  reliable,  entertaining,  and  instructive  companion. 

Mr.  Meacham's  thirty  years'  experience  among  the  Indian 
tribes  of  the  North-west,  and  his  ofllcial  career  as  Superintendent 
of  Indian  affairs  in  Oregon,  together  with  his  participation  in  the 
tragic  events  of  the  Lava  lied,  invest  his  words  with  an  authority 
which  must  outweigh  that  of  every  flippant  politician  in  the  land, 
who,  to  secure  the  huzzas  of  the  mob,  will  applaud  the  oppressor 
and  the  tyrant  one  day,  ar  ^  •  ver}'  next  day  clamor  mercilessly 
for  their  blood. 

D.  L.  emj:rson. 


11 


BosTOK,  Oct.  1,  1874. 


INTRODUCTION. 


•  *» 


The  chapter  in  our  Nationul  History  whicli  tdU  our  dcnlinj?s  witli  the  Indian 
tribes,  froi-.i  Plymouth  to  San  Francisco,  will  be  one  of  the  darkest  and  nm-t 
disgruceful  in  our  annuls.  Fraud  and  oppression,  hypocrisy  and  violi'ncc, 
open,  high-handed  robbery  and  sly  cheating,  the  swindling  agent  and  the 
brutal  soldier  turned  into  a  brigand,  buying  promotion  by  pandering  to  the  hate 
and  fears  of  the  settlers,  avarice  and  indifference  to  human  life,  and  lust  for 
territory,  all  play  their  parts  in  the  drama.  Except  the  negro,  no  race  will 
lift  up,  at  the  judgment-seat,  such  accusing  hands  against  this  nation  as  the 
Indian.  We  have  put  him  in  charge  f  agents  who  have  systematically 
cheated  him.  We  have  made  causeless  war  on  him  merely  as  a  pretext  to 
steal  his  lands.  Trampling  under  foot  the  rules  of  modern  warfare,  we  have 
made  war  on  his  women  and  children.  AVc  have  cheated  him  out  of  one  hunt- 
ing-ground by  compelling  him  to  accept  another,  and  have  robbed  liim  of  the 
last  by  driving  him  to  frenzy,  and  then  punishing  resistance  with  confiscation. 
Meanwhile,  neither  pulpit  nor  press,  nor  political  party,  would  listen  to  his 
complaints.  Congress  has  handed  him  over,  gagged  and  helpless,  to  the  hands 
of  ignorant,  drunken  and  brutal  soldiers.  Neither  on  its  floor,  nor  in  any  city 
of  the  Union,  could  his  advocate  obtain  a  hearing.  Money  has  been  poured 
out  like  water  to  feed  and  educate  the  Indian,  of  which  one  dollar  in  ten  may 
have  found  its  way  to  supply  liis  needs,  or  pay  the  debts  we  owed  him. 

To  show  the  folly  of  our  method,  examine  the  south  side  of  the  great  lakes, 
and  you  will  find  in  every  thirty  miles  between  Plymouth  and  Omaha  the 
scene  of  an  Indian  massacre.  And  since  1789  we  have  spent  about  one  thou- 
sand million  of  dollars  in  dealing  with  the  Indians.  Meanwhile,  under  British 
rule,  on  the  north  of  tliose  same  lakes,  there  has  been  no  Indian  outbreak, 
worth  naming,  for  a  hundred  years,  and  hardly  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
have  been  spent  directly  on  the  Indians  of  Canada.  What  is  the  solution  of 
tliis  astounding  riddle?  This,  and  none  other.  England  gathers  her  Indian 
tribes,  like  ordinary  citizens,  within  the  girth  of  her  usuol  laws.  If  injured, 
they  complain,  like  other  men,  to  a  justice  of  the  peace,  not  to  a  camp  cap- 
tain. If  offenders,  they  are  arraigned  before  such  a  justice,  or  some  superior 
court.  Complaint,  indictment,  evidence,  trial,  sentence,  are  all  after  the  old 
Saxon  pattern.  With  us  martial  law,  or  no  law  at  all,  is  their  portion ;  no 
civil  rights,  no  right  to  property  that  a  white  man  is  bound  to  respect.  Of 
course  quarrel,  war,  expense,  ojipression,  robbery,  resistance,  like  begetting 
like,  and  degradation  of  the  Indian  even  to  the  level  of  the  frontiersman 

8 


IV 


INTRODCCTIOX. 


who  would  plundor  him,  liavc  been  the  result  of  fuch  a  methnd.  If  sucli  a 
rcHult  wcri'  hinKular,  if  our  case  stood  alone,  we  *hould  rcci-ivc  tiic  iiitiii'ss 
cur.st'M  of  iiiiinkind.  I)ut  tlio  same  result  lia«  almost  always  followed  the  con- 
tact of  the  civilized  and  the  xuvagc  nian. 

General  Grant's  recommendation  of  a  policT  which  would  acknowledge  tho 
Indian  as  a  citizen,  is  tho  first  step  in  our  Intliao  hbtory  which  gives  us  any 
claim  to  be  considered  a  Christian  people.  The  hostility  it  has  met  shows  tho 
fearful  demoralization  of  our  press  and  political  parties.  Statesmanship, 
good  sense  and  justice,  even  from  a  chief  ma^gtrate  can  k:^rdly  obtain  a 
hearing  when  they  relate  to  sucli  lon^r-time  victims  of  popular  hate  and  pil- 
lage as  our  Indian  tribes.  Some  few  men  in  times  past  hare  tried  to  stem  this 
hideous  current  of  national  indiflerence  and  injustice.  Some  men  do  now  try. 
Prominent  among  these  is  the  author  of  this  rolumo.  Thirty  j'cars  of  practi- 
cal experience  in  dealing  with  Indians  while  he  represented  the  Government 
in  different  offices ;  long  and  familiar  acquaintance  with  their  genius,  moods, 
habits  and  capabilities,  enable  and  entitle  him  to  testify  in  tliis  msc.  T  ,  hav- 
ing suffered,  at  the  hands  of  Indians,  all  that  man  can  sufior  and  still  live,  ho 
should  yet  lift  up  a  voice,  snatched  almost  miraculously  from  tho  grave,  to 
claim  for  them,  nevertheless,  the  treatment  of  rs^n^  of  citizens,  is  a  marvellous 
instance  of  fidelity  to  conviction  against  ererj-  temptation  and  injury.  Bear- 
ing all  over  his  person  the  scars  of  nearly  fatil  wounds  received  from  Indians, 
he  still  advocates  Grant's  policy.  FamilL'U'  witli  the  Indian  tribes,  and  per- 
sonally acquainted  with  their  chiefs,  with  the  old  and  young,  men  and  women, 
their  sports  and  faith,  their  history  and  aspirations,  their  education  and  capac- 
ity, their  songs,  amusements,  legends,  business.  lo«e8  and  hates,  liis  descrip- 
tions lack  no  element  of  a  faithful  portrait :  while  his  lightest  illustrations 
have  always  beneath  the  surface  a  meaning  which  cannot  fail  to  arrest  the 
attention  of  the  American  people,  and  enable  them  to  understand  this  national 
problem.  Never  before  have  we  had  just  such  a  witness  on  the  stand.  Bril- 
liant and  grapliic  in  description,  and  exceedingly  happy  in  his  choice  of  topics, 
he  gives  us  pages  startling  and  interesting  as  a  ujreL  Wliilc  his  appeals  stir 
tho  heart  like  a  clarion,  ho  still  keeps  cautiously  to  sober  fact ;  and  every 
statement,  tho  most  seemingly  incredible,  is  based  on  more  than  sufficient 
evidence.  7  co'i.imend  this  book  io  the  puUie — study  it  not  only  as  accurate 
and  striking  in  its  pictures  of  Indian  life,  but  as  profoundly  interesting  to 
every  student  of  human  nature,  — the  picture  of  a  race  fast  fading  away  and 
melting  into  white  men's  ways.  His  contribution  to  the  solution  of  one  of  the 
most  puzzling  problems  of  American  statesmanship  is  invaluable.  Destined 
no  doubt  to  provoke  bitter  criticism,  I  feel  sure  his  views  and  statements  will 
bear  tho  amplest  investigation.  His  volume  will  contribute  largely  to  vindi- 
cate tho  President's  policy,  and  to  enable,  while  it  disposes,  the  American 
people  to  understand  and  do  justice  to  our  natiTe  tribes. 


(Signed,) 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS. 


LIST    OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


IIox.  A.  n.  Mr.ACUAM 

Cex.  Cxyttr 

Doctor  Toomas 

The  Lose  Ixoiax  Sextixel 

The  RiLL-Doo  Traur 

Fareweli.  to  Oxeatta 

The  Bibth-flace  of  Indian   T, 

Graxd  Uocxd  AGEy-v 

The  Uobse  Race 

Capt.  Jack 

ToBET  ASD  Riddle 

MODOCS    ox    the    WAIt-l-ATII 
Wl-XE-ILUI    (ToBET)      . 
ASSASSIXATIOX   SCEXE 
BrIXGIX<>    IX    THE    WOCXDED 

Warm  Sfrixg  Ixdiax  Pickets 

SCHOXCHIX    AXD   JaCK    IX    C'lIAIXS 

BosTox  Charlet 

Black  Jim   

SCAR-FACE   ChAELET     . 


IJ8 


r.vui. 

Frnntisj'iece. 


111 
llli 
195 
203 
017 
401 
445 
403 
529 
5G9 
.'.SO 
(140 
051 
057 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  REMINISCENCES-POW-E-SHIEK'S  BAND. 

The  Author'8  Fears  and  Hopes  —  A  Bit  of  Personal  History  —  Two  Great 
Wrongs  —  Early  Reflections  —  Removal  of  Pow-e-siiiek's  Band  in 
1844  —  The  Lava  Beds  —  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  referred 
to  —  Even-handed  Justice  —  Captain  of  an  Ox  Team  —  Sad  Scene 
Preparatory  to  Pow-e-shiek's  Departure  —  The  White  Man  Wanted 
It  —  It  is  a  Fair  Business  Transaction  —  A  Gloomy  Picture  —  Gov- 
ernment Officials  Move  Slow  —  (The  Lone  Indian  Sentinel)  —  A 
Fright  in  Camp  — The  Welcome —  Cupid's  Antics  — An  Indian  Maid- 
en's Ball  Dress  —  The  Squaw's  Duties  —  Tlie  Indian'b  Privileges  — 
End  of  the  Journey  —  The  Return -r- The  Conscientious  Church 
Member  —  Throngs  of  Emigrants  —  A  Great  Contrast  and  a  Glowing 
Picture  —  Y  xnkee  Boys  and  Western  Girls  —  A  Strange  Mixture  — 
The  People  of  Iowa — The  Nation's  Perfidy  towards  the  Savage 


PAQB 


CHAPTER  II. 

OVERLAND— BLOOD  FOR  BLOOD. 

Pow-e-shiek  Visits  his  Old  Home  —  His  Recognition  of  the  Writer  —  He 
Spends  the  Winter  —  His  Character  —  The  Ceremonial  Smoke,  and 
the  Writer's  Mistake  —  Pow-e-shiek's  Return  —  **  Van,"  the  Indian 
Pony  —  Crossing  the  Plains — Indian  Depredations  —  What  Pro- 
vokes Them  —  The  Murdered  Indian  —  The  Loaned  Rifle  —  Arrest- 
ing Indians  on  "General  Principles"  —  They  are  Slain  on  "Gen- 
eral Principles,"  also  —  The  Butchery  of  Indian  Women  and  Chil- 
dren —  The  Bloody  Deeds  of  White  Men  —  The  Indian's  Revenge    . 


24 


CHAPTER  III. 

INDIANS  AND  MINERS. 

Two  Letters  —  Why  they  are  Introduced  —  Lee's  Encampment  —  Gold 
Fields  of  Idaho  and  Eastern  Oregjn,  in  18C3  —  Tides  of  Adven- 
turers —  Means  of  Transportation  —  Umatilla  City  —  The  Saddle 
Train  — The  "Kitchen  Mule"  —  Walker's  Lino  —  Novel  Method 
of  Securing  Ponies  —  Indians  Hunting  Lost  Horses  —  Sublime 
Mountain  Scenery  —  Punch  and  Judy  —  A  Stalwart  Son  of  Erin — 


vin 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


lie  Buys  un  Indian  Pony  —  His  Rich  Experience  Tiierewith — A 
Scene  Wortliy  of  the  Pencil  of  a  Bierstadt  —  "  Riding  a  Bottle  "  — 
Tlie  Indian's  Friends  Denounced  —  Indian  Integrity  —  Striking 
Examples  —  Tin-tin-mit-si,  the  Rich  Old  Indian  Chief— "Why 
White  Men  are  Fools" 


32 


CHAPTER  IV. 

DIAMOND-CUT-DIAMOND. 

Treaty  with  the  Government  —  The  Annual  Visits  —  Indians  and  Whis- 
key —  The  White  Man's  Advantage,  and  the  Indian's  Privilege  — 
Punishment  for  Intoxication  —  Indian  "  Muck-a-muck  "  —  Tho 
Salmon  and  their  Haunts  —  Ludicrous  Scenes  —  Financial  Re- 
venge —  The  Oregon  Lawyer's  Horseback  Ride  —  He  is  Sadly  De- 
moralized —  His  Scripture  Quotations  —  Fourtli  of  July  Celebra- 
tion—  Disappointed  Spouters  —  Homli's  Sarcastic  Speech  —  His 
Eloquence  and  His  Resolve  —  A  Real  Change  —  Tiireo  Tribes 
Unite  —  A  Fair  Treaty  —  Umatilla  Reservation  —  Gorgeous  De- 
scription of  an  Earthly  Paradise  —  Homli's  Return  .        .        .        . 


45 


CHAPTER  V. 

POLICIES  ON  TRIAL—"  ONEATTA." 

The  Author  Appointed  Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs  —  Not  a  Politi- 
cal Friend  of  President  Johnson  —  An  Indian  "Agency"  —  De- 
scription of  a  Hunting-Ground  —  Shipwrecks  —  Signal  Fires  —  Why 
they  are  Built  —  A  Tradition  —  Perilous  Adventure  of  Two  Chief- 
tains —  A  "  Big  Canoe  "  Saved  from  Wreck  —  They  are  Rewarded 
with  many  Curious  Gifts  —  Tiie  Squaw's  Surprise  —  The  Pappoose's 
Fears  —  The  Chase  —  Squaws  Disrobed  —  A  Good  Time  Gen- 
erally —  The  Chiefs  Fright  —  He  is  Reassured  —  Comes  Alongside 
the  Siiip  —  Love  at  First  Sight —  A  Battle  without  the  War-whoop  — 
The  Chief  Boards  tlie  Ship  —  The  Scene  on  Deck  —  The  Ciiief 's 
Departure  —  The  Lovers,  Oneatta  and  Theodore  —  The  Chief's 
Consent  —  The  Dance  —  The  Lover's  Conquest  —  Tlie  Betrothal  — 
The  Ship  Ready  to  Depart  —  Tlie  Marriage  on  Board  —  Farewell 
to  Oneatta 57 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SENATORIAL  BRAINS  BEATEN  BY  SAVAGE   MUSCLE  —  PLEAS- 
ANT  WAY  OF  PAYING  PENALTIES. 

The    Legend    in    the  Last  Chapter  —  Why  it  is  Introduced — Siletz 
Agency  —  Oyster  Beds  and  Timber  Lands  —  The  same  "  Old  Story  " 


CONTENTS. 


IX 


PAOB 


PAOE 


32 


45 


Rehearsed  —  The  Boat  Race  —  Indian  vs.  United  States  Senator  — 
The  Horse  Race  —  Congressional  Avoirdupois  —  Crossing  the  Si- 
letz  River  —  Civilized  Indians  —  A  Rare  Scene  —  Euclire  Bill  — 
Biting  off  Heads  — The  Indian  School— Too-toot-na— His  "Wife 
Jinncy  —  Her  Financial  Skill  —  Her  Husband's  Hope  —  Doomed 
to  Disappointment  —  Indian  Court  Day  —  Hickory  Clubs  vs.  Black- 
stone —  The  Attendants  at  Court  —  Tlio  First  Case  —  A  "Woman's 
Quarrel  —  Appropriating  a  Horse  —  "Wounded  Honor  —  An  Agree- 
able Penalty  —  The  Lone  Chief  —  Indian  Bashfulness  —  The  Agent's 
Fears  —  Old  Joshua  Speaks  —  Ilis  Eloquence  —  His  Request  is 
Granted  —  Religious  Influences — A  Language  of  One  Hundred 
Words  —  Christianity  and  Common  Sense  —  The  Dialogue  —  Logs 
on  Indian  Graves — "Why  Placed  there  —  Religions  of  the  Indians 
Discussed  Further  On  —  Indian  Agent  Ben  Simpson  —  His  Re- 
port—  He  Arraigns  the  Government  —  Joel  Palner's  Report  — 
The  Political  Preacher  and  the  Christian  Agent — The  Treachery 
of  the  Former  —  A  Plea  for  the  Silctz  Indians  —  Case  "White  Men 
and  a  Cruel  Government  —  The  Sad  Story  Repi  atcd  —  A  Ray  of 
Hope — Alsea  Agency — The  Alsea  Indians  —  Their  Character 
Peaceable  and  therefore  Neglected  —  Crime  Rewarded  by  the  Gov- 
ernment—  Virtue  Punished — The  Destiny  of  the  Alsea  Tribe — A 
Stern  Rebuke  and  a  Prophecy 


74 


's 

Va 

ell 


57 


CHAPTEE  YII. 

PHIL  SHERIDAN'S  OLD  IIOJIE— WHAT  A  CABIN  COST. 

Grand  Round  Agency —  Indian  Houses  —  Cost  of  a  Bo.ard —  Gen.  Phil 
Sheridan  —  A  Romance  of  a  Young  Chief —  Tlie  Family  from  Mis- 
souri—  The  Red-skinned  Archer  and  Pale-face  Gunner  —  Their 
Trial  of  Skill  —  Fight  with  the  Grizzly  —  The  Wounded  Hunter  — 
The  "Medicine  Man" — Santiam  and  the  Pale-faced  Maiden  — 
The  Disappointment  —  Faithful  to  Her  "Vows  —  Description  of  the 
Valley  Resumed  —  The  Writer's  First  Visit  —  The  Indians  Tliere  — 
Their  Progress  in  Civilization —  Ceremonious  Hand-shaking  —  Tho 
Writer's  Remarks  —  Replies  by  Joe  Ilutchins  .and  Louis  Neposa  — 
A  Peculiarity  of  Indian  Eloquence  —  Speeches  by  Black  Tom  and 
Solomon  Riggs  —  The  Writer's  Speech  —  Its  Effect  — Wapto  Davis's 
Flain  Talk  —  Joe  Ilutchins'  Sarcasm  —  Result  of  the  Council .        .     101 


•LEAS- 


tz 


CHAPTER  Till. 

STOPPING  THE  SURVEY— WHY. 

Official  Correspondence  —  What  the  Indians  7)Teed  —  Important  Ques- 
tions Asked  —  Commissioner  Parker's  Reply.     (See  Appendix)  — 


CONTENTS. 


PAGIi 


The  Mills  Built  —  Indian  Laborers  —  A  Misunderstanding  —  Tlie 
Indian's  Riglits  —  Tliey  are  Wronged  —  A  Protest  —  Interesting 
Letter  Relating  to  Allotment  of  Lands.  (See  Appendix) — Singu- 
lar Request  —  Reason  for  It  —  An  Aet  of  Justice  —  Tlio  Indian 
Parade  —  Tlie  Indian's  Speech  in  Englisli  —  Tlio  Writer's  Reply  — 
Wapto  Speaks  —  Catholics  rs.  Methodists  —  Father  Waller — An 
Episode  —  Leander  and  Lucy  —  Love  and  Law  —  Old  and  New  — 
The  usual  Course  cf  True  Love  — JIarriage  Ceremony  —  No  Ki'^s- 
ing  —  The  Dance  —  Tlie  Methodist  Pastor  and  the  Priest  —  Tho 
Catholics  Liberal  (?) — A  Stupid  Preacher  —  Common  Sense  in 
Religion  —  ^ndian  Comments  —  Defective  Schools  —  Unwritten 
History  of  Grand  Round  Agency  —  Old  and  Forsaken 


120 


CIIAPTEE   IX. 

THE  AGED  PAIR  —  BIRTHPLACE  OF  LEGENDS. 
The  Scene  Changes  —  The  River  Steamer  —  Tho  Railroad  —  The  Bat- 
tle Ground  —  Causes  of  War  and  Slaughter  —  A  Legend  of  the 
Cascades  —  Battles  —  Divine  Interpositions  —  Soul-stirring  Tra- 
ditions —  The  AVaiting  Dead  —  Sacrilegious  Hunters  —  NcNulty, 
the  Noble  Captain  —  Mount  Tlood  —  Mount  Adams  —  Sublime 
Scenery  —  The  Dalles — The  Salmon  Fishery  —  Its  Value  —  Hab- 
its of  the  Salmon  —  Commencement  of  tho  Fishing  Scenery  —  Indian 
Superstition  —  Methods  of  Catching  and  Curing  Salmon  . 


138 


CHAPTER   X. 

DANGEROUS  PLACE  FOR  SINNERS. 

Warm  Spring  Agency  —  Indians  in  Treaty  Council  —  Intimidated  by 
Government  Troops — Pledges  Unfulfilled — John  Mission  and 
Billy  Chinook  —  They  become  Converts  to  Christianity  —  Treachery 
of  the  Government  —  AVhy?  because  the  Indians  are  Peaceable  — 
Journey  to  the  Agency  Continued  —  Crossing  the  Stream  —  Fire 
and  Brimstone  —  A  Perilous  Descent  —  The  Author's  Report  — 
This  Agency  a  Fraud  —  Climate  of  Warm  Springs  —  Character  of 
the  Indians  Here  —  The  Two  Treaties  —  The  Indians  Declare  they 
were  Deceived — A  Great  Injustice — Unfitness  of  the  Warm 
Spring  Agency  —  Captain  John  Smith  —  His  Character —  His  Com- 
munication —  A  Careful  Perusal  Urged 


150 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE  PARSON  BROWNLOW  OF  THE  INDIAN  SERVICE. 

Captain  Smith's  Letter  —  His  Opinion  of  Catholics  —  The  Indian  Coun- 
cil—An Indian  Leads  in  Prayer  —  Appearance  of  this  Council  —  It 


CONTEXTS. 


XI 


was  liko  a  Methodist  Revival  Scone  —  The  Head  Chiefs  Speech  — 
lie  abjures  Polygamy  —  The  Autlior's  lleply — Marie  wants  to 
Change  liis  Name — lie  selects  the  Name  of  Jleacliam  —  Marks' 
Second  'Wife,  Matola — Her  Speech — John  Mission  speaks  — 
Speech  of  Billy  Chinoolc  —  Iland-shalvin^  anil  Enrollinij  Names  — 
Pi-a-noose  —  His  Speech  — Two  Kinds  of  Indians  on  this  Agency  — 
The  Trial  Policy  of  the  Government 


ICO 


CHAPTER   XII. 

KO  PLACE  LIKE  HOME  —  SQUAWS  IN  HOOPS  AND  CHIGNONS. 

Umatilla  Agency  —  The  Council  —  Its  Object  —  The  Purchase  by  the 
Government  of  the  Eeservation  —  A.  B.  Meaehani's  Speech  — 
Many  Indian  Speeches  (See  Appendix,  Chap.  XII.)  — The  Council 
Fairly  Conducted  —  Religion  of  the  Umatilla  Indians  —  AVealth  a 
Curse  to  Them  —  They  Take  the  First  Prizes  —  They  are  Haughty, 
Proud  and  Intraci.vblo  —  "Susan,"  the  ^yido^v  —  Her  "Recep- 
tions "  —  The   Dance  —  "Women's  Rights  —  Susan  a  Good  Catholic.      181 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


"IIOW-LISH-WAMPO,"  KING  OF    THE  TURF 

CRAWLS. 


A  DEAD    THING 


Indian  Sportsman  —  Ilow-lish-wampo,  tho  Famous  Horseman  —  Pat 
and  the  Indians  Once  ilore  —  French  Louie,  the  Confident  Sport  — 
He  is  Beaten  and  Fleeced  — Returns  on  Ponies  Given  in  Charity  — 
Joe  Crabb  and  Ilis  Important  Race-Horse  —  His  Groomsmen  and 
Attendants  —  Skirmishing  Preparatory  to  tho  Great  Race  —  Joe 
Crabb  is  Shrewd  —  The  Wild  Indian  is  Shrewder  —  Indian  Method 
of  Training  Horses  —  Intense  ''  -est  in  the  Race  —  Throngs  of 
Visitors  —  Holding  the  Stakes  —  Indian  Honor  —  Indians  not  Always 
Stoical  —  They  are  Enthusiastic  Gamblers  —  Never  Betray  their 
Emotions  —  Consummate  Strategy  of  Indian  "Sports"  —  Tho  Ap- 
pearance of  the  two  Race-Horses  —  Preliminary  Manoeuvres  —  Tho 
Start  —  The  Indian  Horse  Ahead  —  Wild  Excitement  —  The  Fast- 
est Time  on  Record— All  Good  Indians  Three  Feet  Under 
Ground  —  Fine  Opportunity  for  Sport  —  Challenge  to  Commodore 
Vanderbilt,  Rooert  Bonner,  Rev.  W.  II.  II.  Murray,  or  Any  Other 
J/aw—  Habits  of  the  Indian  Horses  —  The  Cayuso  Horse  —  An  In- 
dian Train  — The  Squaw's  Outfit  — Indian  Etiquette  —  Indian 
Wives  who  Want  to  be  Widows  —Indian  Maidens  —  Many  of  the 
Umatillas  Civilized  —  Tho  Prospect  of  the  Umatillas 


185 


zn 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  XIY. 

SNAKE  WAR  — FIGHTING  THE  DEVIL  WITH  FIRE. 

The  Snake  War  —  Alleged  Cause  of  the  War  —  Manner  of  Warfare  — 
Charley  Winslow  and  Nathan  Dixon  —  II.  C.  Scott  and  Family,  and 
Wheeler,  all  Victims  of  the  War  —  Eighty  Chinamen  Murdered  — 
Indians  Butchered  in  Turn  —  Jeff  Standiford  and  His  Band  of  But- 
chers —  Stone  Bullets  and  Iron  Slugs  —  The  Art  of  Killing  Indians  — 
Joaquin  INIiller  —  General  Lcc  —  Stonewall  Jackson  —  General 
Grant — Capture  of  the  Daugliter  of  a  "Warm  Spring"  Chief — 
General  Crook  calls  for  Indian  Scouts  —  The  Bounty  Offered  —  The 
McKay  Brothers — A  White  Cliief  Fights  like  a  Savage  —  Privilege 
of  Scalping  Granted—  On  the  War  Path  —The  Last  Buttle  —The 
Surrender  —  A  Pile  of  Scalps — Snake  Ilair  Playing  Switch  for 
White  Ladies  —  Visit  to  Snake  Country  —  After  a  Long  Leap  Com 
ing  Out  Smiling — Castle  Rock —  Old  Castle  of  Jay  Cook  —  Pant- 
ing Charger  —  A  Game  Chicken  in  the  River  —  Adams  Laughing 
and  Weeping  —  A  Real  Native  American  —  In  a  Basket  —  In  Col- 
lege—  Baking  Bread  in  a  Frying  Pan  —  Jimmy  Kane  the  Indian 
Cook  —  Making  Mathematical  Calculations — The  Test  —  Season- 
ing tlie  Supper  —  Clothes  Don't  make  the  Man  —  General  Crook 
under  a  Slouch  Ilat  —  Tah-homo  and  Ka-ko-na —  Transmutation  — 
Fine  Feathers  —  Arrival  at  Camp  Harney 


207 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  COUNCIL  WITH  THE  SNAKE  INDIANS  —  O-CHE-0. 

A  Camp  Scene  —  Peace  Council  with  the  Snake  Indians  —  Announcing 
the  Presence  of  Ka-ko-na  —  Their  Representations  —  Colonel 
Otis  —  Old  Winnemucca  Sent  For  —  A  Bloodthirsty  Chief — His 
Wives  —  Their  Savage  Mode  of  Life  —  Indian  Women  Socially  — 
Result  of  the  Council  —  Both  Parties  Came  Armed  —  The  Medi- 
cine Man —  A  White  and  Red  Doctor  Disagree  —  A  Warning- 
Incantation  of  a  Medicine  Man  —  Strange  and  Cruel  Treatment  of 
the  Sick  — "Big  Foot"  — A  Beautiful  Custom  — The  Fire  Tele- 
graph —  Spiritualism  —  0-Che-O  and  Allen  Diivid  —  A  Peaceful 
Talk  in  Seven  Tongues  —  The  Old  Squaw  and  Her  Heartless 
Sons  —  A  Gloomy  Picture  of  Savage  Life  — The  Snakes'  Home  — 
Their  Future  a  Problem  —  Climate  of  this  Region  —  Enemies  to  — 
Novel  Method  of  Capturing  them  —  Crickets  for  Food  —  A  Cricket 
Press  —  Warriors  who  Eat  tiieir  Foes  —  An  Embryo  Indian  War  — 
How  it  Can  be  Avoided  —  Tah-home  and  Ka-ko-na  in  Tribulation  — 
Power  of  Medicine  Men  —  Stronger  tJian  love  —  Wild  Men  Shrewd 


CONTENTS. 


XIII 


PAGE 


In  Such  Matters  —  ITcart-Broken  Squaw  —  Proposition  to  Elope  — 
Fear  of  Pursuit  —  No  Compromise 224 


CHAPTER  XYI. 


OVER  THE  FALLS  — FIRST  ELECTION. 


Resuming  the  Journey  —  Klamath  Reservation  —  Saying  Prayers  — 
The  Accident  —  Value  of  a  Dead  Mule  —  Different  Trihos  on  tho 
Reservation  —  Klamaths  never  Enemies  of  the  'Wliites  —  Lindsey 
Applegate — The  First  Election  —  White  Jlen  Imitated  —  The 
Result  —  Allen  David  Elected  Chief — His  Cliaracter  —  He  is  an 
Orator  of  Great  Power  — Preparation  for  the  "  Big  Talk" —  Tho 
Scenes  in  the  Council  —  The  Big  Camp  Fire  —  Tah-home  and  Ka- 
ko-na  in  Great  Distress  —  Indian  Strategy  Winked  at  l)y  an  Offi- 
cer —  It  Succeeds  —  The  Lovers  in  a  Snow-storm  —  Outwitted  ami 
Glad  of  It — Allen  David  Opens  the  Council  —  His  Thrilling 
Speech  —  The  Author's  Official  Report  —  Another  Speech  from  tho 
Red-skinned  Orator  —  Tiie  Author's  Reply — Joe  Hood  —  Various 
Speeches  Bearing  on  the  Indian  Question  —  Official  Correspond- 
ence—  Address  to  the  Klamath  Indians  —  Their  Attention — Tho 
Indian  Allen  David — His  Wonderful  Eloquence — Extracts  —  Tho 
Author's  Reply  —  Speech  of  Joe  Hood  —  The  Reconciliation  —  The 
Preparation  —  The  Speeches  of  Allen  David  and  Captain  Jack  — 
The  Autlior's  Views  of  Thieving  Officials — An  Appeal  for  Justice  — 
Tho  Request  of  Klamaths 


245 


CHAPTER    XYII. 


KLAMATH  COURT  —  ELOPEMENT  EXTRAORDINARY. 

Wife  Rohbery  —  Divorce  made  Easy  —  Names  of  Uniformed  Officers 
Withheld  —  Wliy  —  Bio's  Searcliing  Questions  —  The  Law  One- 
sided—Little Sally —  Tlie  New  Court  — A  Novel  Scene  — Tlie  Court 
Opened—  Sally's  Complaint  —  Her  Husband's  Views  —  Tlie  Baby's 
Heart  half  his  and  half  his  Wife's  —  Sally  and  her  Husband  Want 
to  bo  Re- married  —  The  Bride's  Outfit- A  Serious  Ceremony  — A 
Pledge  that  White  Men  don't  Take  —  Indian  Modesty  —  Wlio  Kissed 
the  Bride  —  Case  Number  Two  —  Tlie  Sentence  —  Tho  Dance  — 
Indian  Theatre  ~  The  Actor  —  A  Wild,  Exciting  Play  —  Tiie  Indian's 
Dramatic  Power 262 


XIV 


COXTENT8. 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

OMELETS  AND  AKROWS  — BIG  STEAM-BOILERS. 


PAGE 


Imlinn  Games  —  Long  John,  the  Gambler  —  The  Wocus  Fiehls  —  How 
it  is  rrepiircd  for  Fooil  —  E;;ging  and  Fishing  —  A  Bird's  Nest 
Described  —  Trout-fishinj;  —  Various  Kinds  of  Trout  —  Game  —  Bijj 
Klamath  Lake  —  Linkllivcr—  Nature's  Steam-power  —  The  Country 
of  the  Blodocs — A  Grand  Scene  —  Bound  for  the  Homo  of  Captain 
Jack 279 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

MODOC    BLOOD    UNDER    A    FLAG    OF    TRUCE  —  SEED   SOWN 
TWENTY  YEARS  BEFORE   A   HARVEST. 

The  Modoc  War  — The  Origin  of  the  Modocs  —  The  La-la-kas  — The 
Grciit  Indian  Rebellion  and  the  American  Revolution  —  The  Offlco 
of  Indian  Cliief — Captain  Jack  —  Form  of  Government  among  Indian 
Tribes  —  Tiie  Home  of  the  Modocs  —  Why  Modocas  Rebelled  —  The 
Modocs  in  184G  —  Schonchin  —  Tlie  Fatlicr  of  Ca])tain  Jack  —  Ac- 
count of  the  Latter  —  Cruelties  Perpetrated  oy  the  Modocs  —  Causes 
of  the  First  Jlodoc  Wars  —  Two  Sides  of  the  Question  —  Chief  Schon- 
chin's  Reason  for  Killing  White  Men —  The  "  Bon  Wright  "  Massa- 
cre —  Slaughter  of  Emigrants  —  Horrible  Cruelties  —  The  Squaw's 
Jealousy  —  Ben  Wright  —  Ills  Character  —  His  Infimous  Act  of 
Treachery  —  Treaty  with  the  Modocs  in  18G4  —  Why  it  was  not 
kept  by  Captain  Jack  —  The  Oregon  Superintendent  makes  a 
Treaty  —  It  is  now  being  Ratified -^  Captain  Jack  understood  tho 
Treaty  —  He  Rel)el3  —  Says  he  was  Deceivcid  —  Attempt  to  Force 
him  to  return  to  the  Reservation  —  His  Insulting  Language  —  Lost 
River  —  A  Fish  Story  —  Difficulties  in  the  way  of  meeting  Captain 
Jack 289 


CHAPTER    XX. 


BLUE  EYES  AND  BLACK  ONES  —  TOBEY  RIDDLE. 

Captain  Jack's  Apology  — He  Makes  a  Camp  for  his  Visitors  —  The 
Modoc  Women  not  Slaves  like  other  Indian  Women  —  Sage 
Brush  —  The  Modocs  would  not  Eat  First  —  The  Reason  —  Tobcy 
and  Frank  Riddle  —  Riddle's  Romantic  Career  —  Truth  Stranger 
than  Fiction  —  He  Discards  his  First  Love  —  Ilis  Indian  Wife  — 
They  act  a  part  in  his  Story  —  Captain  Jack's  Falsehood  Exposed  — 
The    Government   Appropriations  —  Captain    Jack    Quibbles    but 


CONTENTS. 


XV 


PAOK 


Yields — lie  is  Overruled  by  tlie  Medicine  Man  —  A  Critical 
Moment —  Indian  Vocabularies  —  Tobcy's  Good  Sense  and  Loyalty  — 
Kiddle  and  Tobcy  Avert  a  Scene  of  Dlood  —  Mr.  Meachaui's  Bold 
Speech  to  Captain  Jack  —  The  Strategy  of  Meachatu's  Party  —  Two 
Powers  Invoked  —  Kepresentalives  of  Elijah  and  Aliab —The  Sol- 
diers wlio  are  sent  for  do  not  Kcspond  as  Ordered  —  They,  too, 
are  under  the  Influence  of  <S}n'n7s  —  They  Hush  into  Camp  —  An 
Excitinf?  Scene  —  The  Parley  with  the  Modocs  and  its  llesults  — 
Queen  Mary  —  Her  Itare  Ojiportunities  —  She  Pleads  for  her 
Brother,  and  Gains  her  Point  —  Jack  Surrenders  —  An  Incident  — 
Arrival  at  tlie  Klamatli  Ileservation  —  IJeconeiliation  between  Two 
Chieftains  —  Ceremony  of  Burying  the  Hatchet —  Allen  David,  the 
Famous  Indian  Orator  —  His  Kemarkablo  Spcecli  —  Captain  Jack's 
Beply  —  Allotment  and  Distribution  of  Goods  —  "  Head  and  Pluck" — 
Indiaa  Mode  of  Cooking  Meats  —  A  Gorgeous  Scene  —  A  Big 
Council  Talk  —  Link  lliver  Joe's  Solemn  Speecli  —  An  Impressive 
AVatcli-meeting  —  The  Writer's  Peculiar  Position  —  The  Dim  Fore- 
sliadowing 


811 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


BURYING  THE  HATCHET  — A  TURNING  POINT. 


A  Settlement  of  Old  Difficulties  —  Trouble  Ahead  —  The  Modocs  Taunted 
with  their  Poverty — Agent  Knapp  —  His  Character— Captain 
Jack  Applies  to  Knapp  for  Protection  —  Is  Treated  Coolly—  Schon- 
chin  John  —  Captain  Jack  and  his  Band  Leave  Klamath  —  Old 
Schonchin  Removes  to  Yainax  —  Captain  Jack  Contemplates  making 
his  Home  tlicre  —  An  Unfortunate  Occurrence  Prevents  —  One 
more  Effort  for  Peace  —  Jesse  Applegate  —  Letter  of  Instructions  to 
John  Meacham  —  It  is  Conciliatory  but  Firm  —  Departure  of  The 
Commission  —  Humanity  and  Common  Sense  —  Fortunately  the  Com- 
missioners go  well  Armed  —  Assassination  Intended  —  Prevented 
by  Captain  Jack  —  His  Loyalty  Doubted  by  tlie  Modocs  —  Schonchin 
Intrigues  for  the  Chieftainship  —  Captain  Jack  only  a  Representative 
Chief — Republican  Ideas  for  once  a  Curse  —  Captain  Jack  Argues 
tlie  Cause  of  liis  People  with  Great  Skill  and  Force  —  He  Refuses  to 
go  on  to  the  Reservation  again  —  Agrees  to  go  to  Lost  River  — 
How  Bloodshed  Might  Have  Been  Avoided  —  The  Author's  Reports 
referred  to  —  The  Modocs  become  Restless  —  They  Violate  their 
Pledges- Tlie  White  Settlers  Annoyed  —  They  demand  Redress 
and  Protection  —  Captain  Jack  not  blamed  by  the  Whites  —  He  was 
Powerless 


ill' 


XVI 


CONTEXTS. 


CIIAPTEK    XXII. 


U.  S.  SENATOUS    COST  BLOOD  — FAIR  FIGHT  — 
OPEN  FIELD. 

Change  in  the  Indian  Suporintcndency — T.  B.  Oilencnl  Appointed  —  Ills 
Qualiflciitions  for  tiie  OlHce — Did  not  Undorstand  tlic  Indians  — 
Tlie  Modocs  Ordered  to  Klamatli  Reservation  —  Tlicy  Refuse  to 
go — Captain  Jackson  Ordered  to  the  Modoc  Camp  —  Twelve 
Settlers  go  to  soo  tiio  Fun  —  Character  of  Frontiersmen  —  Who 
are  Responsible  for  Indian  Wars — Situation  of  Jack's  Camp  — 
Number  of  his  Braves  —  Arrival  of  the  Soldiers  and  Citizens  — 
They  como  Unexpected  —  A  Fatal  Jlistako  —  First  Gun  of  the 
Modoc  War — First  Battle  —  Jlodocs  Victorious  —  Fight  on  tho 
other  side  of  tho  River —  Injjlorious  Results  to  the  White  —  Rein- 
forcements sent  for  by  JIajor  Jackson  —  Captain  Jack  and  his 
Braves  retire  to  tho  Lava  Beds  —  Scar-faco  Charley  remains 
behind  —  His  Strange  Motive  for  so  doing  —  John  A,  Fairchild  — 
He  learns  an  Important  Lesson  —  Ills  Humanity  and  Wisdom  — 
White  Citizens  cry  for  Vengeance  —  Fourteen  Modocs  agree  to 
return  to  Klamath  —  AVIiy  they  rejoined  Captain  Jack  —  Tho 
latter  always  for  Peace  —  TIio  curly-haired  Doctor  wanted  War  — 
Ho  and  other  Modocs  Commit  Horrid  Crimes  —  Seventeen  Whites 
Butchered  —  The  Scene  that  followed  —  Tho  Victims  of  tho 
Slaughter  —  Friends  of  the  Murderers  —  The  Author's  Authority  for 
many  of  his  Statements  —  Captain  Jack  denounces  tho  Murderers, 
and  demands  that  they  shall  be  surrendered  to  tho  Whites  —  Is 
overruled 


PAOI 


3G1 


CHAPTER    XXITI. 


MOURNING  EMBLEMS   AND   ]MILITARY  POMP. 


"Wails  of  Anguish"  —  "Intense  Excitement "—"  A  Scene  of  Woo 
seldom  Equalled  " —  "A  Sublime  Portraiture  of  Frontier  Life"  — 
"Who  shall  say  Vengeance  on  The  Avenger" — "Tiio  Govern- 
ment called  to  a  Rigid  Account" — "War  Succeeds  Sorrow"  — 
"  The  Grand  Army  of  Two  Hundred  "  —  "  Opinions  tliat  are  Opin- 
ions, and  tho  Reasons  for  tliem  " — "  A  Job  before  Brcakftist  not 
accomplished"  —  "  Benefit  of  the  War  to  Oregon  and  California"  — 
"  The  Politicians  and  Speculators'  Opportunity  "  —  "  Four  Hundred 
White  Soldiers"  —  "Proposition  to  slay  Modoc  Women  and  Chil- 
dren "  —  "A  Little  Gray-eyed  Man  Objects"  —  "A  good  deal  of 
Buncombe  and  of  anticipated  Glory  " 


377 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


CHAPTER    XXIY. 

PEACE   OR  "WAR  — ONE    IIUNDUED    LIVES    VOTED    AWAY    BY 

MODOC  INDIANS. 

PAUK 

A  Descent  to  tlio  Lava  Bed  —  Tulo  Lake  —  The  Lone  AVoinan  witli  a 
Field  Glass  —  The  Deserted  Wiiito  House  —  Tlie  Dark  IMiifl' —  The 
Red-skinned  Loyal  Soldiers  —  The  Solitary  Tree  —  Description  of 
the  Lava  Ik-d  —  Link  River  Jack  tlie  Natural  Traitor  —  Council 
among  tlie  Modocs — Jack  Still  for  Peace  —  Earnest  Speeches  on 
both  sides  —  Tho  Curly-headed  Doctor  decides  the  Momentous 
Question  —  The  Vote  is  for  War — IIow  tho  Doctor  niak('s  Medi- 
cine —  Captain  Jack  Plans  tho  Battle  —  A  Lost  Warning  to  tho 
Sleepers 888 


CHAPTER    XXY. 

MODOC  STEAK  FOR  BREAKFAST  —  GRAY-EYED  MAN  ON  THE 

WARPATH. 

i  A.  M.,  January  17,  1873  — Preparation  for  tho  Battle  —  Tho  Conflict 
Begins  —  Tho  Deadly  Modoc's  Bullets  —  Where  are  tho  Volun- 
teers —  The  Battle  Rages  with  fearful  Loss  of  Life  —  Orders  to 
Retreat  —  The  Wounded  to  bo  Rescued  —  Vain  Attempt,  tho  Vic- 
tims Scalped  —  Modoc  Rejoicings  —  Speeches  of  tho  Victors  — 
Captain  Jack  not  so  Enthusiastic  —  General  Wlieaton's  Defeat  — 
Comments  of  the  Volunteers — Tho  Sarcasm  of  the  Gray-eyed 
Man 400 


CHAPTER   XXYI. 

OLIVE  BRANCH  AND   CANNON  BALLS  — WHICH  WILL  WIN? 

The  Peace  Commission  Appointed  —  Terms  of  Peace  unwisely  Proposed 
to  tho  "  Modocs  "  —  The  "  Modocs  "  seem  to  accept  the  Terms  — 
Joy  in  Camp  — It  is  suddenly  Dampened  —  The  Great  Mistake  of 
Steele,  tho  Messenger  — Tho  Fearful  Crisis— A  Most  Suitable 
Time  to  say  Prayers  —  Honor  among  Savages  —  Tiio  Messenger's 
Strategy  —  It  Saves  his  Life  —  His  Report  —  Tho  Author's  Dispatch 
to  Washington  —  The  Reply  —  Anxiety  and  Gloom  in  Camp  —  Mo- 
doc Messengers— What  they  Propose  —  Commission  in  tho  hands 
of  General  Canby  —  Prejudiced  against  Tobey— Tho  Modocs  offer 
to  Surrender  —  Wagons  sent  to  Receive  Them  —  Their  Intentions  — 
They  Fail  to  Agree  —  Modoc  Horses  Captured  —  General  Canby 
won't  return  them 413 


XVIII 


COXTHNTS. 


CIIATTEK   XXVII. 


CAPTAIN  JACK   A    DH'I.OMAT 


SHOOT  ME  IF  YOU  DAHE. 

PAGE 


The  Now  Ciiiiii)  —  'llu"  Moilocs  AUowcJ  to  TUit  the  Camp  —  Rcngons 
for  it  —  Tilt'  Scviii  Hours'  T:ilk  witli  Captain  Jaik  —  The  Diplo- 
matic Siivajju  —  Ills  Skill  in  Debate  —  Hi*  Logic  an  J  liis  Kloqucnco 
—  lie  lm»  IJiKlit  on  liis  Side  —  This  the  Only  ErtcmleJ  Talk  with  the 
Modocs — ('iijit.  Jack's  drapliic  Description  of  the  "  I»en  Wri;^lit" 
Massacre  —  Tliis  Cokl-bloodtMl  Butclicr  Kewarded  liv  our  Govern- 
ment—  Full  lleport  of  tliii  Meetinsj — Another  Effort  for  Peace  — 
Tobcy's  Mission  —  The  Kesult  —  She  i*  Warned  hy  a  jicace-loving 
Modou  —  The  IJoports  to  the  Commisjion  —  Some  do  not  Believe 
Her  —  The  Indiscretion  of  ller.  Dr.  Thomas  —  Siirrin^  News  from 
the  other  Camp  —  Assassination  IntenJcvl  —  Tohcy  is  Sent  for  by 
the  Modocs  —  She  Goes  —  Atfectinj  Farewell  to  Husband  and 
Child  —  A  Tlirillinj;  Scene  in  the  llo'loc  Camp  —  True  Heroism  — 
•*I  am  ft  Modoc  Woman;  Shoot  Me  if  You  Dare"  —  The  Camp 
Sloved  —  Strange  Surroundings  and  Sad  lleflcctions  —  An  Inci- 
dent—  Peace  Council  with  the  Jlodocs — Their  Hostile  Intentions 
Foreshadowed  —  The  Storm  —  Proposal  to  Adjourn  —  It  is  Treated 
with  Contenii)t  by  Jack — Says  he  shall  not  Melt  like  Snow  —  The 
Council  Adjourns 443 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

WHO   HAD   IJEEN   THERE  —  WHO   HAD   NOT. 

General  Gilliam's  Oi)inion  about  Taking  the  Modocs  —  Colonel  Mason's 
Opinion  —  Dlirerence  in  Judtrnicnt  —  Another  Discussion  Going  On  — 
Colonel  Greene  Speaks  —  Colonel  Tom  Wright  in  Commissioners' 
Tent  —  A  Growl  —  Wager  Offered  —  Proposition  to  Send  Away 
Nine  Hundred  Soldiers  —  Waiting  for  the  Warm  Springs  —  Desertion 
—  Common  Soldiers'  Opinion  —  They  Want  Peace  —  Commissioners' 
Cooking  —  Work  Divided  —  Canby  Enjoys  a  Joke  —  "  Don't  Throw 
Oflf  on  Bro.  Dyer  " 


457 


I   H 


CHAPTER     XXIX. 

UNDER  A  WOMAN'S   HAT  —  THE   LAST  APPEAL. 

New  Efforts  for  Peace  —  Dr.  Thomas'  Faith  —  It  Avails  Little  —  Riddle 
Appealed  to  —  The  Author's  Fatal  Absence  —  Modoc  Cunning  — 
The   Guileless   Betrayed  —  The   Author's   Fears  —  The   Compact 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


PAOE 


Madv  —  Tlic  Last  llrcnkfast  —  Tlio  Indian  Jmliis  —  IIo  \V'iint9 
Mcaclum  to  Wiar  IiIh  Nw  IJoots  —  Tlio  Modoc  Council  —  C'liptain 
Jack  and  Scar-fin-  Oiijjosc  tlic  Massiicrc  —  Tlie  I'onm'i  'raiuiti'il  witii 
being  a  Wiiite  Sijuiiw  —  Hoin^  only  ii  Ut'iirL'scntiitivy  Cliii'f  lin  Vidds 
to  the  XIajority  —  'I'lio  IJloody  Work  Allotti'd  to  Kiicli — Another 
Butchery  Agreed  ujion — The  Warninj^  liepented  but  Unheeded  — 
Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  nre  Determined  to  K"  —  'I'he  Latter  Seems 
Doubtful  of  the  Kesult  —  The  Farewill  Letter  —  Tohey  and  IJiddlo 
Implore  them  not  to  go  —  Meacham  Makes  Ono  More  EfTort  to  Save 
Life  —  lie  Pleads  with  Dr.  Tliomas  and  General  Canhy — .V  Sad 
Scene  and  a  Terrible  Kesolution — The  Dorrinyer  I'istol  —  De- 
parture fur  the  Scene  of  Slaughter 


4G2 


CIIAPTEE    XXX. 


ASSASSINATION  —  " KAU-TUX-E "  —  THE    DEATH    TUAYEU 
SMOTHERED    BY   BLOOD  —  UESCUEl). 

The  Scene  near  the  Council  Tent  —  Several  De.'pcrato  Slodocs  De- 
scribed —  I'reparing  for  the  Carnival  of  Death  —  Tlic  Boy  Jlurderers 
and  their  Weapons —  Bo};us  and  Boston  Announce  the  Approach  of 
the  Commis'^ion  —  Wliy  does  Meacham  l{eniove  his  Overcoat  —  Tliu 
Blodocs  Suspiciously  Cordial  —  Fighting  a  Battle  with  Pride  — 
Appearance  of  the  Commissioners  —  Hooker  Jim's  Strange  Move- 
ments—  Tlie  Intruder  Near  the  Council  Tent  —  Tiio  Butchery  for 
the  Time  Being  Averted  —  Hooker- Jim's  Ominous  Movements — Ho 
puts  on  Meacham's  Overcoat  —  "Me  old  man  Aleacham  now"  — 
Tliis  Act  is  instantly  Interpreted  —  All  are  Conscious  of  tlieir  Impend- 
ing Doom —  Uefcctions  During  the  Fleeting  Moments  —  What  will 
General  Canbv  Say  —  AVill  he  Accede  to  the  Demand  of  tlie  Modocs 
and  thus  At.  rt  Death  —  Vrill  he  Take  the  Soldiers  Awny  —  I  le  Breaks 
the  Silence  —  Duty  Dearer  than  Life  —  Death  before  Dishonor  — 
Dr.  Thomas's  Last  Speech  —  What  will  Captain  Jack  do  now  — 
Will  he  Give  the  Signal  —  IIo  Changes  Places  with  Schonchin  —  The 
Manner  of  the  Latter  —  The  Attack  Begins  —  General  Canl)y  the  l''irst 
to  Fall  —  His  Horrible  Death  —  Dyer  is  Shot  at  by  Hooker- Jim  — 
He  3Iakcs  Lis  Escape  —  Eiddle  Pursued  by  Black  Jim  —  The  Latter 
Fires  at  IJandom  —  The  Reason  —  The  Bloody  Work  of  Boston  and 
HfKiker-Jim  —  Dr.  Thomas's  Tragic  End  —  Ilis  Murderers  Taunt 
him  with  his  Religion  —  Why  dcm't  he  Turn  the  Bullets  —  Schonchin, 
his  D.igger  and  his  Pistol  —  Meacham  Attacked  by  Schonchin  — 
Slolux  and  Sliack-Nasty  Jim  —  The  Struggle  for  Life  —  Tobey's 
Efforts  to  save  Him  — The  Dreadful  Scene  of  the  Tragedy  —  Boston 
as  a  Scalper  — The  Squaw  Toboy  — Her  Strategy —  Another  Bloody 
Tragedy  Planned  but  not  Executed  —  Lethargy  followed  by  Vigor- 


XX  CONTEXTS. 


PAGE 


0U3  Action  —  Meacham  Discovered  —  Tlio  Stretcher  —  Brandy  — 
"No  Timo  for  Tuinperanco  Talli"  — Tlio  Council  Tent  a  AVinding- 
shoct  —  Howards  to  tlie  Couriers  —  Tlie  Eisiity-tlirco  Mile  Uace  — 
The  Gray  and  the  Pinto  —  The  Exultant  Winner     .        .        .        . 


478 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

HAIiyESSED  LIGHTNING  CARRYING  AWFUL  TIDINGS  —  HE 
JAKES  IT  — A  BROKEN  FINGER  WON'T  DISFIGURE  A 
CORPSE. 

Making  Coffins  in  the  Lava  Bed  —  The  Patient  in  the  Hospital  —  A 
Broken  Finger  will  not  Disfigure  a  Corpse  —  Tlie  Commotion  in  tho 
Modoc  Camp  — The  Disputes  —  Common  Interest  a  Strong  Bond  — 
The  Great  Medicine  Dance — The  Modocs  Exultant —The  Wife's 
Suspense  —  The  Dreadful  News  —  Its  Effect  on  Wife  and  Children  — 
First  Robbed  by  the  Government,  then  its  Defenders  —  Our  Nation's 
Perfidy  —  The  Sorrowful  Hearts  at  Home  —  Prayer  and  Praise  in 
Camp  —  A  Lesson  for  Bigots  and  Cowards  to  Learn  —  Tlie  Medi- 
cine JIan  in  the  Modoc  Camp  —  lie  Fires  the  Modoc  Heart  —  Capt. 
Jack  Despondent  —  Long  Jim  —  Novel  Scene  ift  the  Soldier's  Camp 
—  The  Murder  of  the  Commission  to  be  Avenged  —  Long  Jim  Es- 
capes—  Much  Powder  Wasted — "Nary  a  Wound"         .         .         ,     522 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

HORIZONTAL  PYROTECHNICS  — THE  SCALP  MIRACLE— KILLED 
IN   PETTICOATS  — THE   PRESENTIMENT. 

Preparationa  for  Another  Battle  —  Stretchers  for  the  Wounded  —  Mat- 
tresses and  Lint  —  Tlie  Wounded  Man  in  the  Hospital  Expects  Com- 
pany—  The  Iowa  Veteran  —  Tlio  Signal  for  Battle  —  It  Begins  — 
Re-echoing  of  Cannon  —  Tlio  Assault  —  No  Response  Yet  —  Volleys 
from  the  Concealed  Foe  —  Tlio  Retreat  —  The  Dead  and  Wounded 

—  Tiic  I'AT-riotic  Sutler  —  The  Walking  Sage  Brush  —  Tho 
Wounded  Pony  —  Pat's  Head  in  Danger  —  Tho  Flat  Assaulted  — 

—  Lieut.  Eagan  Falls  —  The  Two  Stages  —  Tho  Remains  of  tho 
Laniented  Dead  —  The  Bere.ivcd  AVidow  and  the  StrikenWife  — 
The  Wounded  Warm  Sp.'ing  Indian  —  He  Ridicules  Modoc  Powder 

—  The  Modocs  out  of  Water  —  The  Lady  Passc.iger — Sympathy 
Extended  —  On  Her  AVay  to  the  Lava  Beds  —  The  Welcome  Letter 

—  Still  Alive,  but  Handsome  No  Longer  —  The  Battle  for  Water  — 
The  Fair-haired  Boy  —  His  Terrible  Presentiment — Courage  Tri- 
umphs —  His  Lost  Jlessages  to  Friends  — The  Dread  Reality — The 
Unexploded  Shell  does  Execution  —  A  Scalp  Cut  to  Suit  —  The  In- 


CONTENTS. 


XXI 


PAGE 

dian  Plays  Squaw  —  He  is  Suspected  and  Numerously  Sca.\\)C(l  — 
Military  Bombast  —  Mourning  for  the  Dead  —  llcinains  of  Canby 
and  Thomas  —  The  Stricken  Parent  —  The  Wife's  Disappointment 
and  Anguish  —  Tlie  Modocs  Withdraw  —  The  Soldiers  Deceived  — 
Thev  Surround  Vacant  Caves 522 


CHAPTER    XXXIH. 

MUSIC  DON'T  SOOTHE  A  SAVAGE  — FIGHTING  THE  DEVIL 
WITH  FIRE  A  FAILURE —  "  WE'LL  BURY  THE  OLD  MAN 
ALIVE." 

Watching  and  Disappointment  —  Visit  of  Pia-noose  to  Meacham  —  Geri. 
Canby's  Remains  in  Portland,  Oregon  —  Burial  of  Dr.  Thomas  — 
Burying  a  Leg  —  Col.  Wright's  Opinion  of  the  Modocs  —  Modocs 
in  New  Camp  —  Young  Ilovey's  Father  Informed  of  his  Death  — 
Modocs  Attack  Gilliam's  Camp —  "  You  can  Play  Dead,  Old  Man  " 
—  Scar-Face  an  Artillery  Officer  —  The  Gray-eyed  Man  —  Proposi- 
tion to  Bury  "The  Old  Man"  Alive  —  Burial  of  Young  Ilovey  — 
Extermination  —  Indian  Sympatliy  with  Capt.  Jack  —  W-uin  Spring 
Messenger  to  Linkville  —  Anotlier  Disappointment  for  Mrs. 
Meacham  —  Twenty  Changes  in  a  Hundred  for  Life  —  The  Twenty 
Chances  Win  —  Hope  Dawns  —  Another  Messenger  Sent  —  Donald 
McKay  in  Camp  —  Reading  News  to  Meacliam  —  Fairciiild's  Opinion 
of  Oregon  Press  —  Ferree's  Warning  to  Fairchild  —  His  Reply  — 
Gov.  Grover  Calls  out  Volunteers  —  Meneham's  Departure  for 
Home  —  Storm  on  the  Lake —  Old  Fields  — A  Sailor  —  Dr.  Cabanis 
a  Joker  —  Jlrs.  Meacham  Watching  the  Boat  —  Her  Thoughts  — 
Tlie  Meeting  —  Ferree's  Introduction  —  Meacham  on  an  Am- 
bulance—  Arrival  at  Linkville  —  Big-hearted  Jlen  —  Soft  Hand  and 
a  Whispered  Prayer 643 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 


AMEN      OUT     OF 


TIME  —  FRIENDLY     ADVICE     FROM    ENE- 
MIES —  BETRAYED. 


Meacham  at  Ferree's  —  Then  and  Now  —  Capt.  Jack  —  Another  Scene 
in  the  Hospital  —  Maybridge  —  Bunker  Bildad  —  Modocs  Impatient 
to  be  on  the  Warpath  —  Gen.  Canby's  Remains  in  San  Francisro 
—  The  Silver-haired  Man  in  Iowa  —  The  Warning  against  the  Kla- 
maths— Old  Father  Jones  and  Brother  Congar  — Tlio  Misunder- 
standing—  Adniinisteiing  Saltpetre  —  Army  Recruiting — Making 
Aapther  Coffin  —  Meacham  Again  in  Danger  —  Iowa  Veteran  Ready 


XXII 


CONTENTS. 


to  Dose  out  Bluo  Pills  —  Location  of  Modocs  —  Rcconnoissanco 
Ordered  —  Defeat  of  Tliomas  and  Wrigiit  —  Scenes  of  tlie  Slaughter 
—  Warm  Sprinjjs  to  the  Rescue  —  Cranston's  Death  —  Tliirty-four 
Modocs  Fighting  Eighty  Soldiers  —  Peace  Commissioners  not  in  the 
"Way  —  Lt.  Harris's  Mother  in  Camp-  Gen.  Davis's  Iteport  of  the 
Fight  —  Jlodocs  Leave  the  Lava  Bods  —  Dry  Lake  Battle --Mo- 
docs said  to  he  AVliipped  for  Once  —  Treason  of  Hooker  Jim  to 
Bogus  —  Gen.  Davis's  Summary  of  Succeeding  Events   . 


CG2 


CHAPTER  XXXY. 

LAST  HIDING  PLACE —  IIANGING-MACHIXE  UXTIUED  — MODOC 
BUTCHERS    OUTDONE. 

Vivid  Account  of  the  Surrender  of  the  Mod(i-j  Chiefs  —  Butchery  hy 
"Brave  Civilized"  Wliito  Jlen  —  Oregon  Laws  —  The  'Whito 
Butchers  not  Arrested  —  Men  who  have  Political  Influence — The 
Gallows  —  A  Strange  Sight  to  the  Modocs — Tiie  Harmless  Cannon 

—  The   AVails    of   Anguis'n  —  Legal    Jus.ic^ — The    Jlost    Bloody 
Hands  Escape  —  The  Courier's  Arrival — General  Disappointment 

—  A  Summary  of  Scenes  and  Events 582 


CHAPTER    XXXYI. 

TAKING  A   SAFE  LOOK    AT    A    SUBDUED    LION— POWER    BE- 
HIND  BAYONETS— WEAKNESS    IN   CHAINS. 

A  Fort  Turned  into  a  Court-IIouso  —  The  Prisoners  at  the  Bar  —  Those 
Glittering  Bayonets  —  The  Prisoners  Arraigned  —  Tlie  Trial  Begins 

—  A.  B.  Meacham  in  Court  —  Have  the  Prisoners  no  Counsel?  — 
Schoncliin  and  Capt.  Jack  —  They  Extend  their  Il.inds  to  ..'.eacham 

—  He  Repels  Them — The  Rjason  for  it  —  Jleachani  Advised  hy  his 
Phj'sician  not  to  Appear  as  Prisoner's  Co.insel  —  The  Trial  Goes  On  — 

—  Indian  Testimony  —  Tliey  Seek  to  Shift  the  Responsibility  — 
Capt.  Jack  not  TL.nself ;  *'  lie  caimotTalk  with  Irons  On."  —  Hooker- 
Jim's  AVeak  Defence  —  The  Modoc's  Attorney  Arrives  Too  Late  — 
The  Most  Guilty  ^Modocs  Escape  ''  'nishment  —  Tlie  Jlistako  of  the 
Judge  Advocate  —  The  Finding  of  the  Court  —  The  Deatl,  ■Tentence     607 


CHAPTER    XXXYII. 

THE  EXECUTION  —  THE  ROYAL  CHIEF  OUT  OF  CHAINS. 

Modocs  in   the   Prison   and   Stockade  —  New  Hanging-Machine  —  The 
Announcement  of  the  Death  Sentence  —  The  Fallen  Chief — Ilia 


COMJiKXS. 


XXIU 


TAQE 


Speech  —  Boston  Charley's  Speech  —  Sclionchin's  —  Tlie  Enraged 
Modocs  —  The  Unfettered  Traitors  —  Scar-faced  Charley  —  A 
Solenin  Scene  and  an  Eh)quent  Prayer  —  A  White  Man  in  Tears 
over  Ked  Men's  Sorrows  —  Once  Proud,  NuW  Ihunblc  —  Tliunder- 
bolt  from  a  Clear  Sky  —  Marble  Tomb  and  Pearly  Gate  —  Jumbled 
Theology  —  Whirling  Tempest  —  Roaring  Cannon  —  Lightning 
Flashing  and  Darkened  Homes  — Passing  under  the  Ch)ud  Alone  — 
Anxious  for  a  Good  Seat  —  Six  Graves  —  Boston  has  a  IJare  Privi- 
lege—  Short  Questions  anil  Sliort  Answers  —  More  than  B)gus 
could  Stand  —  A  Slieriff  among  Soldiers  —  State  Kiglits  —  United 
States  —  A  Big  Offer  for  a  Cinpso  —  Under  the  Eye  of  Uncle  Sam  — 
The  Prisoners  'Waiting  for  Jlarching  Orders  —  The  Con)mand : 
"Come  Forth" — Then  and  Now  —  Leaving  Living  Tombs  for 
Permanent  Homes  —  Solving  the  Problem  of  Six  Graves  ard  Four 
Coffins  —  In  Sight  of  the  Scalfold  —  Last  in  Crime  —  First  to  Jlount 
the  Ladder — The  Chains  Drop  Off — Six  Graves  —  Six  Kopes  — 
Six  Prisoners  —  Four  Coffins  —  Four  Unfettered  Convicts  —  Sus- 
pense Succeeds  Certain  Death  —  Last  March  —  A  Single  Strand 
and  a  Gleaming  Axe  —  On  tlie  Drop  Waiting  —  Sitting  on  a  Cotlin 
Watching  —  Justice  ^Making  a  Protest  —  Fortj'  Millions  of  People 
Talking  at  Once  — What  They  Say —Tlie  Problem  Solved  — Jus- 
tice Surprised  —  The  Last  Prayer  —  Tiio  Drop  —  Calling  the  Modoc 
Roll  —  The  Missing  —  Where  They  Arc  —  Tragedy  Ended 


G30 


CHAPTER     XXXyill. 


THE  TWO  GIBBETS. 


Mementoes  of  the  Horrid  Butchery  —  A  Nation's  Justice  towards  the 
Strong,  and  its  Tyranny  over  the  Weak  —  Grant's  Humane  Policy  — 
On  Wliom  should  tlie  Blame  Fall  —  Tlie  Answer  —  Witnesses  Sum- 
moned to  Prove  the  White  Man's  Perfiily  —0.  C.  Applegatc  —  His 
Record  of  Bloody  Deeds  —Hon.  J.  W.  Nesmith  —  His  Intimate  Ac- 
quaintance witli  Indian  Affairs  —  His  Unequivocal  Testimony  —  Dr. 
Wni.  C.  McKay's  Testimony  —  General  Harney  Bears  Witness  to  the 
Indian's  Good  Faith  —  The  Indians  Not  the  Aggressors  in  the  Oregon 
War—  Tstinionyof  Hon.  Geo.  E.  Cole— iMutual  Fear  resulting  in 
Butchery  —  Tlie  Rogue  River  War  —  Tlie  Result  —  Another  Unim- 
peachable Witness,  Gen.  Joel  Palmer  — His  Terrible  Arraignment 
of  the  AVliites  — Judge  Steele  — Bon  AVright's  Plot  to  Poison 
the  Indians— Colonel  Wliiting  — Forty-nine  Indians  Butchered  — 
A  Tribute  to  Frontier  Men  — A  Simple  Remedy  for  the  Great 
Wrong      


GG3 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


» ♦  ♦ 


CHAPTER    I. 


EARLY  REMINISCENCES,  POW-E-SHIEK'S  BAND. 


"  Oh,  that  mine  enemy  would  write  a  book ! "  With 
that  ominous  warning  ringing  in  my  ears,  I  sit  down 
to  write  out  my  own  observations  and  experiences, 
not  without  full  appreciation  of  the  meaning  and  pos- 
sible reiteration  of  th"  above  porientous  saying.  In 
so  doing  I  shall  endeavor  to  state  plain  facts,  in  such 
a  way,  perhaps,  that  mine  enemies  will  avail  them- 
selves of  the  privilege. 

Hoping,  however,  that  I  may  disarm  all  malice,  and 
meet  with  a  fair  and  impartial  criticism,  based  on  the 
principles  of  justice  both  to  myself  and  to  the  peoples 
of  whom  I  write,  I  begin  this  book  with  the  convic- 
tion that  the  truths  which  I  shall  state,  though  told  in 
homely  phrase,  will  nevertheless  be  well  received  by 
the  reading  public,  and  will  accomplish  the  purposes 
for  which  it  is  written ;  the  first  of  which  is  to  furnish 
reliable  information  on  the  subject  under  considera- 
tion, with  the  hope  that  when  my  readers  shall  have 
turned  the  last  leaf  of  this  volume  they  may  have  a 
better  understanding  of  the  wrongs  suffered  and 
crimes  committed  by  the  numerous  tribes  of  Indians 
of  the  north-west. 


I 


II;  M 


I'ii  t 


h  ( 


2 


WIOAVAM   AND   WARPATH. 


Born  on  the  free  side  of  the  Ohio  river,  of  parents 
whose  immediate  ancestors,  though  slave-holders,  had 
left  the  South  at  the  command  of  conscientious  con- 
victions of  the  great  wrong  of  human  bondage,  my 
earliest  recollections  are  of  jiolitical  discussions  relat- 
ing to  the  crime  against  God  and  humanity;  of  power 
compelling  weaTcness  while  groaning  under  the  oppres- 
sion of  wrongs  to  surrender  its  rights. 

Coupled  with  the  "great  wrong"  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  occasionally  that  other  wrong,  twin  to  the 
first,  was  mentioned  in  my  father's  family;  impressed 
upon  my  mind  by  stories  I  had  heard  of  the  treat- 
ment of  Indians  who  had  in  early  days  been  neighbors 
to  my  parents,  driven  mile  by  mile  toward  the  setting 
sun,  leaving  a  country  billowed  by  the  graves  of  their 
victims  mingled  with  bones  of  their  own  ancestors. 
What  wonder,  then,  that,  while  rambling  through  the 
beech  woods  of  mv  native  State,  I  should  speculate 
on  the  remnants  of  ruined  homes  which  these  people 
had  left  behind  them,  and  walk  in  awe  over  the  bat- 
tle-fields where  they  had  resisted  the  aggressive  march 
of  civilization? 

While  yet  in  childhood  my  parents  migrated  to 
what  was  then  the  "  Far  West."  Our  new  home  in 
Iowa  was  on  the  outskirts  of  civilization,  our  nearest 
neighbors  being  a  band  of  Sacs  and  Foxes,  —  "  Sau- 
kees."  This  was  the  beginning  of  my  personal 
acquaintance  with  Indians. 

The  st^.  -ies  that  had  kindled  in  my  heart  feelings  of 
sympat;  and  commiseration  for  them  were  forgotten 
for  a  tiiiiv  in  the  present  living  history  before  my 
eyes. 

I  was  one  of  a  party  who  in  1844  assisted  the  Gov- 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


8 


ernmcnt  in  removing  Pow-e-shiek's  band  from  the 
Iowa  river  to  their  new  home  in  the  AVest.  The 
scenes  around  the  Indian  village  on  the  morning  of 
their  departure  were  photographed  on  my  mind  so 
plainly  that  now,  after  a  lapse  of  thirty  years,  they 
are  still  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  the  impressions 
made  on  me,  and  resolves  then  made  by  me,  have 
never  been  forgotten,  notwithstanding  the  terrible 
dangers  through  which  I  have  since  passed. 

The  impression  was,  that  j)ower  and  miglit  were 
compelling  these  people  to  leave  their  homes  against 
their  wishes,  and  in  violation  of  justice  and  right. 
The  resolution  was,  that,  whenever  and  wherever  I 
could,  I  would  do  them  justice,  and  contribute  wdiat- 
ever  of  talent  and  influence  I  might  have  to  better 
their  condition. 

These  impressions  and  resolutions  have  been  my 
constant  companions  through  a  stormy  life  of  many 
years  on  the  frontier  of  Iowa,  California,  and  Oregon. 

The  bloody  tragedy  in  the  Lava  Beds,  April,  1873, 
through  which  the  lamented  Christian  soldier,  Gen. 
Canby,  and  the  no  less  lamented  eminent  preacher.  Dr. 
Thomas,  lost  their  lives,  and  by  which  I  had  passed  so 
close  to  the  portals  of  eternity,  has  not  changed  my 
conviction  of  right,  or  my  determination  to  do  justice 
to  even  those  who  so  earnestly  sought  my  life.  Nar- 
row-minded, short-sighted  men  have  said  to  me,  more 
than  once,  "I  reckon  you  have  suffered  enough  to 
cure  all  your  fanatical  notions  of  humanity  for  these 
people ! " 

I  pity  the  heart  and  intelligence  of  any  man  who 
measures  principles  of  justice  and  right  by  the  gauge 


I 


4  WIGWiVil   AND  WARPATH. 

of  personal   suffering   or   personal    interest.     It    is 
unworthy  of  enlightened  Christian  manhood. 

"By  their  works  ye  shall  know  them."  So  may 
these  people  of  whom  I  write  be  adjudged  in  the 
lights  of  1874;  so  shall  this  nation  be  adjudged;  so 
judge  ye  the  author  of  this  book. 

The  spring  of  1845,  Pow-e-shiek's  band  of  Sacs 
and  Foxes  were  removed  from  their  home  on  Iowa 
river,  twenty-five  miles  above  Iowa  City,  Iowa,  to 
Skunk  river,  one  hundred  miles  west.  Eighteen  or 
twenty  teams  were  hired  by  the  Government  to  con- 
vey the  household  goods  and  supplies. 

Among  the  number  who  furnished  teams,  my  father 
was  one,  and  I  went  as  captain  of  the  ox-team.  The 
Indians  were  assembled  at  the  "  Trading  Post "  pre- 
paratory to  starting.  While  the  wagons  were  being 
loaded,  some  of  them  were  gathering  up  their  horses 
and  packing  their  goods,  ready  for  shipment;  others 
were  making  the  air  vocal  with  wails  of  grief  over 
the  graves  of  their  friends,  or  from  sadness,  conse- 
quent on  leaving  the  scenes  of  a  life-time. 

I  wonder  not  that  they  should  reluctantly  yield  to 
inexorable  fate,  which  compelled  them  to  leave  their 
beautiful  valley  of  the  Iowa.  "  The  white  man  wanted 
it,^''  and  they  must  retreat  before  the  onward  march  of 
empire,  notwithstanding  their  nationality  and  their 
ownership  of  the  country  had  been  acknowledged  by 
the  Government,  when  it  went  into  treaty-council 
with  them  for  the  lands  they  held.  This  was  not  on 
the  plea  of  "  eminent  domain,"  but  on  account  of  the 
clamor  for  more  room  for  the  expanding  energies  of  a 
growing  population. 

"  The  white  man  wanted  it,"  tells  the  story,  as  it 


I 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


IS 


has  been  repeated,  time  after  time,  since  the  founding 
of  the  Colonics  in  America. 

I  do  not  know  that,  in  this  instance,  any  advantage 
was  taken  of  these  Indians,  except  that  advantage 
which  the  powerful  always  have  over  the  weak.  But 
I  do  know  that  if  they  had  been  allowed  a  choice, 
they  never  would  have  consented  to  leave  the  graves 
of  their  fathers.  'Twas  easy  to  say,  "  It  was  a  fair 
transaction  of  selling  and  buying." 

So  is  it  a  business  transaction  when  a  man  buys  the 
lots  adjoining  your  own,  and  builds  high  walls  on 
three  sides,  erects  powder  magazines  and  glycerine 
manufactories,  corrupts  city  councils,  and,  by  means 
of  extra  privileges  and  excessive  taxation,  compels 
you  to  sell  your  valuable  property  for  a  mere  song,  by 
saying,  "Take  my  price  for  your  property,  or  run  the 
risk  of  being  blown  up." 

Is  it  a  fair  "  business  transaction,"  after  he  has  thus 
forced  the  trade? 

What  though  he  does  faithfully  pay  the  contract- 
price?  Does  it  atone  for  the  first  moral  wrong,  in 
legally  forcing  the  sale?  And  how  much  more  aggra- 
vated the  injury  becomes,  when,  through  his  agents^ 
or  his  sons,  he  "  legitimately,"  under  various  pretences, 
permits  the  unfortunate  seller  to  be  robbed,  by  paying 
him  off  in  "chips  and  whetstones,"  that  he  does  not 
desire  nor  need,  so  that  in  the  end  he  is  practically 
defrauded  out  of  his  property,  and  finds  himself  at 
the  last  payment,  homeless  and  penniless. 

All  done,  however,  under  the  sanction  of  law,  and 
in  the  shade  )f  church-steeples,  and  with  sanctimoni- 
ous semblance  of  honesty  and  justice. 

The  picture  is  not  overdrawn.     The  illustration  is 


6 


WIOWAM  AND   WAUPATII. 


I! ; 


fair,  or,  if  deficient  at  all,  it  has  been  in  excess  of 
advantage  to  the  principal,  not  the  victim.  The  latter 
has  accepted  the  wituation  and  suffered  the  conse- 
quences. 

To  return  to  Pow-e-shiek's  band  leaving  their  home. 
Who  shall  ever  recount  the  sorrows  and  anguish  of 
those  people,  while  they  formed  in  line  of  march,  and 
turned  their  eyes  for  the  last  time  upon  the  scenes 
that  had  been  all  the  world  to  them?  What  mattered 
it  though  they  realized  all  the  pangs  their  natures 
were  capable  of,  in  those  jjarting  hours,  with  the  un- 
comfortable promises  that  the  ploughshare  of  civiliza- 
tion would  level  down  the  graves  of  their  fathers,  be- 
fore their  retreatirg  footprints  had  been  obliterated 
from  the  trail  which  led  them  f^adly  away?  They 
were  "Injins;  "  and  they  ought  to  have  been  in  better 
luck  than  being  "Injins." 

Such  was  the  speech  of  a  white  man  in  whose  hear- 
ing I  had  said  some  word  of  sympathy  on  the  occa- 
sion. I  did  not  like  the  unfeeling  wretch  then,  and 
have  not  much  respect  for  him,  or  for  the  class  he 
represents.  Now  I  may  have  charity  and  pity,  too, 
for  all  such.  Charity  for  the  poverty  of  a  soul  so 
devoid  of  the  finer  sensibilities  of  "  conmion  humanity 
that  make  mankind  akin ;  "  pity  for  a  heart  overflow- 
ing with  selfishness,  made  manifest  in  thoughtless  or 
spiteful  speech. 

The  trying  hour  in  the  lives  of  these  Indian  people 
had  come,  and  the  long  cavalcade  moved  out  along 
the  line  of  westward  march,  wagons  loaded  with  corn 
and  other  supplies.  The  old  men  of  the  tribe,  with 
darkened  brows  and  silent  tongue,  sat  on  then*  horses; 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


the  younger  ones,  with  seeming  indifference,  in  red 
bhmkets,  leathers,  and  gaudy  paints,  moving  off  on 
prancing  i^onies^  in  Uttle  squads,  to  j(/ui  the  funeral 
pageant;  I'or  so  it  was.  They  were  leaving  the  cher- 
ished scenes  of  childhood  to  hunt  for  sepulchres  in 
the  farther  "West. 

The  women,  young  and  old,  the  drudges  of  the 
Indian  household,  as  well  as  homes,  where  the  sun- 
light of  civilization  should  warm  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  move  them  to  truer  justice,  were  gathered  up, 
and  preparing  their  goods  for  transportation,  while 
bitter  tears  were  flowing  and  loud  lamentations  gave 
evidence  of  the  grief  that  would  not  be  repressed^ 
and  each  in  t  u'n,  as  preparations  were  complete,  would 
lift  the  pappoose-basket  with  its  young  soul  to  altitudes 
of  mother's  back  or  horse's  saddle,  and  then,  with 
trembling  limbs,  climb  to  their  seats  and  join  the  sad 
procession,  adding  what  of  woful  wailing  seemed 
necessary  to  make  the  whole  complete  with  sights 
and  sound  that  would  bid  defiance  to  painter's  skill 
or  poet's  words,  though,  in  the  memory  of  those  who 
beheld  it,  it  may  live  as  long  as  the  throbs  of  sympathy 
which  it  kindled  shall  rej)eat  themselves  in  hearts  that 
feel  for  human  sorrow. 

The  first  day's  joui'ney  measured  but  four  miles; 
the  next,  six;  and  at  most  never  exceeded  ten  or 
twelve.  I  did  not  understand,  then,  why  we  went  so 
slow.  It  may  have  been  necessary  to  "kill  time,"  in 
order  to  use  up  the  appropriation  for  the  removal. 
Wlien  "camp"  was  reached,  each  day  the  wagons 
were  "corralled;"  that  is  to  say,  were  drawn  together 
in  a  circle,  one  behind  another,  and  so  close  that  when 
the  teams  were  detached,  the  "  pole "  laid  upon  the 


8 


WIGWA3I    AND   WAi:PATII. 


II 
li 


h 


f 


liiiitl  wliut'l  of  the  next  forward  wagon  would  clost? 
lip  the  ga[),  and  tliurs  toinplete  the  "corral,"  which 
was  to  answer  the  double  purpose  pf  "  penning  the 
oxen  when  being  ycjked  up,"  and  also  as  an  exteni- 
l)ore  Ibrt  in  case  of  attack  by  the  Sioux  Indians. 

The  wick-e-u[)s  —  Indian  tents  —  were  scattered 
promiscuously  around,  as  each  family  might  elect. 
After  dinner  was  over  the  remainder  of  Uncle  Sam's 
time  was  spent  in  various  ways:  horse-racing,  foot- 
racing, cai'd-playing,  shooting-matches  by  the  men, 
white  and  red,  while  the  women  were  doing  camp- 
work,  cooking,  getting  woo<l,  building  lodges,  etc.; 
for  be  it  understood,  an  old-style  Indian  never  does 
such  work  any  more  than  his  white  brother  would 
rock  the  ci'adle,  or  operate  a  laundry  for  his  wife. 
The  old  men  Avould  take  turns  standing  guard,  or 
rather  sitting  guard.  At  all  events  they  generally 
went  out  to  the  higher  hills,  and,  taking  a  command- 
ing position,  would  sit  down  all  solitary  and  alone, 
and  with  blanket  drawn  around  their  shoulders  and 
over  their  heads,  leaving  only  enough  room  for  vision 
and  the  escape  of  suKjke  from  their  pipes. 

In  solemn  silence,  scamiing  the  surroundings,  hour 
after  hour  thus  wore  away.  There  was  soLicthing 
in  this  scene  suggesting  serious  conteraplraiou  to  a 
looker-on,  and  I  doubt  not  the  reveries  of  tlie  lone 
watchman  savored  strongly  of  sadness  and  sorrow, 
may  he  revenge. 

Approaching  one  old  fellow  I  sought  to  penetrate 
his  mind,  and  was  rewarded  by  a  pantomimic  exhibi- 
tion, more  tangible  than  "Black  Crook"  ever  wit- 
nessed from  behind  the  cmtains,  while  recuperating 


'OW, 

rate 
ibi- 
vit- 


iiig 


!    ! 


WIGWAii   AND  WAKPATH. 


11 


liib  vfasted  energies  that  he  might  the  more  seem- 
ingly "play  the  devil." 

Kising  to  his  feet  and  releasing  one  naked  arm 
from  his  blanket,  he  pointed  toward  the  east,  and  with 
extended  lingers  and  uj)rising,  coming  j^esture  quick- 
ly brought  his  hand  to  his  heart,  dropping  his  head, 
as  if  some  messenger  of  despair  had  made  a  sudden 
call.  He  paused  a  moment,  and  then  from  his  heart 
his  hand  went  out  in  circling,  gathering  motion,  until 
he  hf.d  made  the  silent  speech  so  vivid  that  I  could 
see  the  coming  throng  of  white  settlers  and  the 
assembling  of  his  tribe;  and  then,  turning  his  face 
away  with  a  majestic  wave  of  his  hand,  I  saw  his  sor- 
row-stricken people  driven  out  to  an  unlniown  home ; 
while  he,  sitting  down  again  and  drawing  his  blanket 
around  him,  refused  me  further  audience.  Perhaps 
he  realized  that  he  had  told  the  whole  story,  and 
therefore  need  say  no  more. 

Often  at  evening  we  would  gather  around  some 
gi'assy  knoll,  or,  it  may  be,  some  wagon-tongue,  and 
white  and  red  men  mingled  together.  We  would  sit 
down  and  smoke,  and  tell  stories  and  recount  tradi- 
tions of  the  past.  Oftenest  from  Indian  lips  came 
the  history  of  wars  and  dances,  of  scalps  taken  and 
prisoners  tortured. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write  the  "  Saukies  "  were 
at  variance  with  the  "hated  Sioux,"  and,  indeed,  the 
latter  had  been  successful  in  a  raid  a^nong  the  herds 
of  the  former,  and  had  likewise  carried  away  captives. 
Hence  the  sentinels  on  the  outpost  at  evening. 

Just  at  dusk  one  night,  when  the  theme  had  been 
the  "  Sioux,"  and  om*  thoughts  were  in  that  channel, 
suddenly  the  whole  camp  was  in  a  blaze  of  flashing 


12 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATII. 


1    ' 


i 


i  i' 


t 


!i 


mi"^ket8.  AVe  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  our  wagons 
— which  were  our  only  fortifications  —  with  mingled 
feelings  of  fear  and  hopf;;  fear  of  the  much-dreaded 
Sioux,  and  hope  that  we  might  witness  a  fight. 

My  recollection  now  is  that  feai'  had  more  to  do 
with  our  gymnastic  exercises  round  about  the  wagon- 
wheels  than  hojye  had  to  do  with  getting  a  position 
for  observation.  But  both  were  short-lived,  for  soon 
our  red-skinned  friends  were  laughing  loud  at  our 
fright,  and  we,  the  victims,  joined  in  to  make  believe 
we  were  not  scared  by  the  unceremonious  flight  of  a 
flock  of  belated  wild  geese,  inviting  fire  from  the 
warriorib  of  our  camp ;  for  so  it  was  and  nothing  more. 
Still  it  was  enough  to  make  peace-loving,  weak 
nerves  shake,  and  heated  brain  to  dream  for  weeks 
after  of  Sioux  and  of  Indians  generally.  I  speak 
for  myself,  but  tell  the  truth  of  all  our  camp,  I 
think. 

The  destination  of  our  chief,  Pow-e-shiek,  and  his 
band  was  temporarily  with  "  Kisk-ke-kosh,"  of  the 
same  tribe,  whose  bands  were  on  Desmoines  river. 
There  is  among  all  Indians,  of  whom  I  have  any 
knowledge,  a  custom  in  vogue  of  going  out  to  meet 
friends,  or  importr^it  personages,  to  assure  welcome, 
and,  perhaps,  gratify  curiosity. 

"When  we  were  within  a  day  or  two  of  the  end  ol 
our  journey,  a  delegation  f-^m  Kisk-ke-kosh's  camp 
came  out  to  meet  our  party,  and,  while  the  greeting 
we  received  was  not  demonstrative  in  words,  the 
younger  people  of  both  bands  had  adorned  them- 
selves with  paint,  beads,  and  feathers,  and  were  each 
of  them  doing  their  utmost  to  fascinate  the  other. 
The  scene  presented  was  not  only  fantastic,  but  as 


"WIGWAM    AND   AVARPATII. 


13 


civilized  people  would  exclaim,  "most  gay  and  gor- 
geous," and  exhilarating  even  to  a  looker-on. 

At  night  they  gathered  in  groups,  and  made  Cupid 
glad  with  the  battles  lost  and  won  by  his  disciples. 
Then  they  danced,  or,  to  ears  polite,  "hopped,"  or 
tripped  the  light  fantastic  moccason  trimmed  with 
beads,  to  music,  primitive,  'tis  true,  but  music  made 
with  Indian  drums  and  rattling  gourds.  They  went 
not  in  waltz,  but  circling  round  and  round,  and 
always  round,  as  genteel  people  do,  but  round  and 
round  in  lum  xit  ,vv,  the  circling  ends  of  which  would 
meet  at  an^  pai  aciilar  point,  or  all  points,  whenever 
the  ring  was  complete,  without  reiierence  to  sets  or 
partners,  and  joining  in  the  hi-yi-yi-eia-ye-o-hi-ye-yi ; 
and  when  tired  sit  down  on  the  ground  until  rested, 
and  then,  without  coaxing  or  renewed  invitation,  join- 
ing in,  wherever  fancy  or  convenience  suited;  for 
these  round  dances  never  break  up  at  the  unwelcome 
sound  of  the  violin,  —  not,  indeed,  until  the  dancers 
are  all  satisfied. 

The  toilets  were  some  what  expensive,  at  least  the 
"outfit"  of  each  maid*^  ■oc.So  her  tribe  several  acres 
of  land,  —  sometimes,  i;  T  Y.uc  figure,  several  huadred 
acres,  —  and  not  because  oi ':"'  c  iong  trails  or  expensive 
laces,  for  they  do  ii  t  need  extensive  skirts  in  which 
to  dance,  or  laces,  '  aer,  to  enhance  their  charms; 
for  the  young  gentlemen  for  whom  they  dressed  were 
not  envious  of  dry  goods  or  firo  enamel,  but  rather 
of  the  quality  of  paint  on  the  cheeks  of  laughing 
girls;  for  girls  will  .nint,  you  know,  and  those  of 
whom  I  write  put  it  oi; '  •>  tbiclr  that  their  beaux  never 
have  cause  to  say,  "  That  s  too  thin." 

The  boys  themselves  paint  in  real  genume  paint, 


14 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


'tip. 


I  1 


i1' 


not  moustaches  alone,  but  eye-brows,  cheeks,  and 
hair.  They  wore  leathers,  too,  because  they  thought 
that  feathers  were  good  things  to  have  at  a  round 
dance;  and  they  followed  nature,  and  relieved  the 
dusky  maidens  of  seeming  violation  of  nature's  plain 
intention. 

As  I  shall  treat  under  the  head  of  amusement  the 
dances  of  Indians  more  at  length,  I  only  remark,  in 
this  connection,  that  the  dance  on  this  occnsion,  while 
it  was  a  real  "round  dance,"  diffared  somt  v'  ^rom 
round  dances  of  more  high-toned  people  in  ,  ,  eral 
ways,  and  I  am  not  sure  it  was  not  without  advan- 
tage in  point  of  accommodation  to  the  finer  feelings 
of  discreet  mammas,  or  envious  ''  wall-flowers.''  At 
all  events,  as  I  have  said  on  former  pages,  the  whole 
set  formed  in  one  circle,  with  close  rank,  facing  always 
to  the  front,  and  enlarged  as  the  number  of  the 
dancers  grew,  or  contracted  as  they  retired;  but  each 
one  going  forward  and  keeping  time  with  feet  and 
hands  to  the  music,  which  was  low  and  slow  at  first, 
with  short  step,  increasing  the  music  and  the  motion 
as  they  became  excited,  until  the  air  grew  tremulous 
with  the  sounds,  rising  higher  and  wilder,  more  and 
more  exciting,  until  the  lookers-on  would  catch  the 
inspiration  and  join  the  festive  ring;  even  old  men, 
who  at  first  had  felt  they  could  not  spare  dignity  or 
muscle  either,  would  lay  aside  their  blankets  until  they 
had  lived  over  again  the  fiery  scenes  of  younger  days, 
by  rushing  into  the  magnetic  cordon,  and,  with  re- 
called youth,  forget  all  else,  save  the  soul-storming 
fury  of  the  hour,  sweetened  with  the  charm  of  exult- 
ant joy,  over  age  and  passing  years. 

And  thus  the  dance  went  on,  until  at  last  by  degrees 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


15 


the  dancers  hnd  reached  an  altitude  of  happmess 
which  burst  forth  in  simultaneous  shout  of  music's 
eloquence,  complete  by  higher  notes  of  human  voice 
drawn  out  to  fullest  length. 

The  dance  was  over,  and  the  people  went  away  in 
groups  of  twos  and  threes.  The  maidens,  skipping 
home  to  the  paternal  lodge  without  lingering  over 
swinging  gates,  or  waiting  for  answering  maids  to 
ringing  bells,  crept  softly  in,  not  waking  their  mammas 
up  to  take  off  for  them  their  lengthened  trails,  but 
perhaps  with  wildly  beating  hearts  from  the  dance 
to  dream-land. 

The  young  braves  gathered  their  scarlet  blankets 
around  them,  and  in  couples  or  threes,  laughing  as 
boys  will  do  at  silly  jest  of  awkward  maid  or  swain, 
went  where  "tired  ^Nature's  sweet  restorer"  would 
keep  promise  and  let  them  live  over  again  the  en- 
chanting scenes  of  the  evening,  and  thus  with  nega- 
tive and  photograph  would /eeZ  the  picture  of  youth 
their  own. 

The  older  men,  whose  folly  had  led  them  to  display 
contempt  for  age,  went  boldly  home  to  lodge  where 
the  tired  squaws  had  long  since  yielded  to  exhausted 
nature,  and  were  oblivious  to  the  frolics  of  their 
liege  lords. 

Mrs.  Squaw  had  no  rights  that  a  brave  was  bound 
to  respect.  It  was  her  business  to  carry  wood,  build 
lodges,  saddle  his  horse,  and  lash  the  pappoose  in  the 
basket,  and  do  all  other  drudgery.  It  was  Ids  to 
wear  the  gayest  blanket,  the  vennilion  paint,  and 
eagle-feathers,  and  ride  the  best  horses,  have  a  good 
time  generally,  and  whip   his  squaws  when  drunk 


16 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


or  angry;    and  it  was  nobody's  business  to  question 
him.     lie  was  a  man. 

Now,  if  my  reader  has  failed  to  see  the  picture  I 
have  drawn  of  Indian  dances,  I  promise  you  that,  be- 
fore our  journey  is  ended,  I  will  try  again  a  similar 
scene,  where  the  music  of  tall  pine-trees  and  tum- 
bling torrents  from  hoary  mountains  will  give  my  pen- 
cil brighter  hues  and  my  hand  a  steadier,  finer  touch. 

The  arrival  of  our  train  at  the  camp  of  Kisk-ke- 
kosh  called  out  whatever  of  finery  had  not  been  on 
exhibition  with  the  welcoming  party  who  had  come 
out  to  meet  us.  And  when  the  sun  had  gone  down 
behind  the  Iowa  prairies  the  dances  were  repeated  on 
a  larger  scale. 

The  following  day  we  were  paid  off  and  signed  the 
vouchers.  Don't  know  that  it  was  intended;  don't 
know  that  it  was  not;  but  I  do  remember  that  we 
were  allowed  the  same  number  of  days  in  which  to 
return  that  we  had  occupied  in  going  out,  although 
on  our  homeward  journey  we  passed  each  day  two  or 
three  ca'T»^;s  made  on  the  outward  journey.  I  ven- 
tured to  make  some  remark  on  the  subject,  suggest- 
ing the  injustice  of  taking  pay  for  more  time  than 
was  required  for  us  to  reach  home,  and  a  nice  kind  of 
a  churchman,  one  who  could  drive  oxen  without 
swearing,  said  in  reply,  "Boys  should  be  seen  and 
not  heard,  you  little  fool !  " 

He  snubbed  me  then,  but  I  never  forgot  the  deep, 
earnest  resolve  I  made  to  thrash  him  for  this  insult 
when  ^^I  got  to  he  a  man.''''  But,  poor  fellow,  he  went 
years  ago  where  boys  may  be  heard  as  well  as  seen, 
and  I  forgive  him. 

We  met  the  rushing  crowds  who  were  going  to  the 


'WuliHirill 


WIGWAM    AND   WARPATH. 


17 


"New  Purchase";  so  eager,  indeed,  that,  like  gi'eedy 
vultures  which  circle  round  a  dying  charger  and 
then  alight  upon  some  eminence  near,  or  poise  them- 
selves in  mid  air,  impatient  for  his  death,  sometimes 
swoop  down  upon  him  before  his  heart  has  ceased 
to  beat. 

So  had  these  emigrants  encamped  along  the  fron- 
tier-line, impatient  for  the  hour  when  the  red  man 
should  pull  down  his  wigwam,  put  out  his  council- 
fires,  collect  his  squaws,  his  pappooses,  and  his  ponies, 
and  turn  his  back  upon  the  civilization  they  were 
bringing  to  take  the  place  of  these  untamed  and  sav- 
age ceremonies.  "While  the  council-fire  was  dying 
out,  another  was  being  kindled  whose  ruddy  light 
was  to  illuminate  the  faces,  and  warm  the  hands  of 
those  who,  following  the  westward  star  of  empire,  had 
come  to  inherit  the  land,  and  build  altars  whcrefrom 
should  go  up  thanks  to  Ilim  who  smiled  when  he  cre- 
ated the  "beautiful  valley"  of  the  Iowa. 

How  changed  the  scene!  Then  the  gray  smoke 
from  Indian  lodge  rose  slowly  up  and  floated  leis- 
urely away.  !Now  from  furnace-blast  it  bursts  out  in 
volume  black,  and  settles  down  over  foundry  and 
farm,  city  and  town,  unless,  indeed,  the  Great  Spirit 
sends  fierce  tempests,  as  an  omen  of  his  wrath,  at  the 
sacrilege  done  to  the  red  man's  home. 

Then  the  forest  stood  entire,  like  harp-strings 
whereon  the  Great  Spirit  might  utter  tones  to 
soothe  their  stormy  souls,  or  rouse  them  to  deeds  in 
vindication  of  rights  he  had  bequeathed. 

Now  they  live  only  in  part,  the  other  part  decay- 
ing, while  groaning  under  the  pressure  of  the  iron 
heel  of  power. 


18 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


I 


:       fe 


Bearing  no  part  in  sweet  sounds,  unless  indeed  it 
be  sweet  to  hear  the  iron  horse,  with  curling  breath, 
proclaiming  the  advance  of  legions  that  worship  daily 
at  Mammon's  shrine,  or  bearing  forward  still  further 
westward  the  enterprising  men  and  women  who  are 
to  work  for  other  lands  a  transformation  great  as 
they  have  wrought  for  this. 

Then  on  the  bosom  of  the  river  the  red  man's  chil- 
dren might  play  in  light  canoe,  or  sportive  dive,  to 
catch  the  mimic  stars  that  seemed  to  live  beneath  its 
flow,  to  light  the  homes  of  finny  tribes  who  peopled 
then  its  cryst  d  chambers. 

^oiVf  it  is  turgid  and  slow,  and  pent  with  obstruc- 
tions to  make  it  flow  in  channels  where  its  power  is 
wanted  to  complete  the  wreck  of  forests  that  once 
had  made  it  cool,  fit  beverage  for  nature's  children,  or 
is  muddied  with  the  noisy  wheels  of  commerce,  strug- 
gling to  rob  the  once  haj)py  home  of  Pow-e-shiek,  of 
the  charms  and  richness  of  soil  that  nature's  God  had 
given. 

•The  prairies,  too,  at  that  time,  were  like  a  shoreless 
sea  when,  half  in  anger,  the  winds  resist  the  ebb  or 
flow  of  its  tides;  or  they  may  be  likened  to  the 
clouds,  which  seem  to  be  mirrored  on  their  waving 
surface,  sporting  in  the  summer  air,  or,  at  the  com- 
mand of  the  Great  Spirit,  hurry  to  join  some  gather- 
ing tempest,  where  He  speaks  in  tones  of  thunder,  as 
if  to  X  ebuke  the  people  for  their  crimes. 

"Where  once  the  wild  deer  roamed  at  will  is  en- 
livened now  by  the  welcome  call  of  lowing  herds  of 
tamer  kind. 

The  waving  grass,  and  fragrant  flowers,  too,  gave 
way  to  blooming  maize  of  finer  mould. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


19 


mg 

[m- 
ler- 

as 

311- 

lof 

Lve 


'W 


The  old  trails  have  been  buried  like  the  feet  that 
made  them,  beneath  the  upturned  sod. 

And  now,  while  I  am  writing,  this  lovely  valley 
rings  out  a  chant  of  praise  to  God,  for  his  benefi- 
cence, instead  of  the  weird  wild  song  of  Pow-e-shiek 
and  his  people  at  their  return  from  crusades  against 
their  enemies. 

Who  shall  say  the  change  that  time  and  civilization 
have  wrought,  have  not  brought  nearer  the  hour, 
"When  man,  no  more  an  abject  thing,  shall  from  the 
sleep  of  ages  spring,"  and  be  what  God  designed 
him,  "pure  and  free?  '* 

!No  one,  however  deeply  he  may  have  drank  from 
the  fount  of  justice  and  right,  can  fail  to  see,  in  the 
transformation  wrought  on  this  fair  land,  the  hand 
of  Him  whose  finger  points  out  the  destiny  of  his 
peculiar  people,  and  yearly  gives  token  of  his  appro- 
bation, by  the  return  of  seasons,  bringing  rich  reward 
to  the  hands  of  those  whom  he  has  called  to  perform 
the  wonders  of  which  I  write,  in  compensation  for 
the  hardships  they  endured,  while  the  transit  was 
being  made  from  the  perfection  of  untamed  life  to 
the  higher  state  of  civilization. 

While  we  praise  Ilim  who  overrules  all,  we  cannot 
fail  to  honor  His  instrumentalities. 

The  brave  pioneers,  leaving  old  homes  in  other 
lands  to  find  new  ones  in  this,  have  made  sacrifices  of 
kindred,  family  ties,  and  early  associations,  at  the  be- 
hest of  some  stern  nece&,sity  (it  may  be  growing  out 
of  bankruptcy  of  business,  though  not  of  pride  and 
honor,  or  manly  character),  or  ambition  to  be  peers 
among  their  fellows. 

Or,  mayhap,  the  change  was  made  by  promptings 


r 

I 


I'     i  'If 


■^': 


m 


m 


I 


fiO 


WIGWA3£  AND  WARPATH. 


of  parental  love  for  children  whose  prospects  in  life 
might  be  made  better  thereby,  and  the  family  unity 
still  preserved  by  locating  lands  in  close  proximity, 
where  from  his  home  the  father  might  by  some  well- 
known  signal  call  his  children  all  around  him. 
Where  the  faithful  watch-dog's  warning  was  echoed 
in  every  yard,  aiid  thus  gave  information  of  passing 
events  worthy  of  his  attention  enacting  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. Where  the  smoke  from  cabin  chimneys 
high  arose,  mingled  in  mid  air,  and  died  away  in 
peaceful  brotherhood.  Where  the  blended  prayer  of 
parent  and  child  might  go  up  in  joint  procession  from 
the  school-house-churches  through  the  shining  trees 
that  answered  well  for  steeples  then,  or  passing 
through  clouds  to  Him  who  had  made  so  many  little 
groves,  where  homes  might  be  made  and  prepared 
the  most  beautiful  spots  on  earth  for  final  resting- 
place,  where  each,  as  the  journey  of  life  should  be 
over,  might  be  laid  away  by  kindred  hands,  far  from 
the  hurrying,  noisy  crowds,  who  rush  madly  along,  or 
stop  only  to  envy  the  dead  the  ground  they  occupy, 
and  speculate  how  much  filthy  lucre  each  sepulchre 
is  worth. 

Others  went  to  the  new  country  with  downy  cheeks 
of  youth,  and  others  still  with  full-grown  beards,  who 
were  fired  with  high  ambition  to  make  name,  fame, 
home,  and  fortune,  carrying  underneath  their  sombre 
hats  bright  ideas  and  wonderful  possibilities,  with 
hearts  full  of  manly  purposes,  beating  quickly  at  the 
mention  of  mother's  name  or  father's  pride,  sister's 
prayer  or  brother's  love. 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


21 


And  with  all  these  to  buoy  them  up,  would  build 
homes  on  gentle  slope,  or  in  shady  grove,  and  thus 
become  by  slow  degrees  "one  among  us." 

I  was  with  the  first  who  went  to  this  new  country, 
and  I  know  whereof  I  write.  I  Iniow  more  than  I 
have  told,  or  will  tell,  lest  by  accident  I  betray  the 
petty  jealousies  that  cropped  out;  when  Yankee-boys, 
forgetting  the  girls  they  left  behind  them,  would  pay 
more  attention  to  our  western  girls  than  was  agree- 
able to  "  us  boys." 

Others  there  were  who  had  followed  the  retreating 
footsteps  of  the  Indians.  These  were  connecting 
links  between  two  kinds  of  life,  savage  and  civilized. 
Good  enough  people  in  the:r  way,  but  they  could  not 
bear  the  hum  of  machinery,  or  the  glitter  of  church - 
spires,  because  the  first  drove  back  the  wild  game,  and 
the  devotees  who  worshipped  beneath  the  second, 
Ibrbade  the  exercise  of  careless  and  wicked  noises 
mingling  with  songs  of  praise. 

A  few,  perhaps,  had  fled  from  other  States  to  avoid 
the  consequences  of  technical  legal  constructions 
which  would  sadly  interfere  with  their  unpuritanical 
ways.  But  these  were  not  numerous.  The  early 
settlers,  taken  all  in  all,  possessed  many  virtues  and 
qualifications  that  entitled  them  to  the  honor  which 
worthy  actions  and  noble  deeds  guarantee  to  those 
who  do  them.  They  had  come  from  widely  different 
birth-lands,  and  brought  with  them  habits  that  had 
made  up  their  lives;  and  though  each  may  have  felt 
sure  their  own  was  the  better  way,  they  soon  learned 
that  honest  people  may  dift'cr  and  still  be  honest. 
And  to  govern  themselves  accordingly,  each  yielded, 
without  sacrifice  of  principle,  their  hereditary  whims 


22 


WIOWAM   AXD  WAllPATn. 


and  i)o('uliar  ways,  anil  left  the  weightier  matters  of 
orlhodoxy  or  lioterodoxy  to  be  argued  by  those  who 
had  nothing  better  with  which  to  occupy  their  time 
than  to  mnddle  their  own  and  other  people's  brains 
willi  abstrnsc  thcincs. 

'^rhc  "early  settlers"  were  eminently  practical,  and 
withal  successful  in  moulding  out  of  the  heterogene- 
ous mass  of  whims  and  prejudices  a  common  public 
scntiuient,  acceptable  to  all,  or  nearly  so.  And  thus- 
they  grew,  not  only  in  numbers  but  in  wealth,  power,. 
inicHi'»'ence,  and  i)atriotism,  until  to-day  there  maybe 
found  on  the  once  happy  home  of  Pow-e-shiek  a  peo- 
ple rivalling  those  of  any  other  State,  surpassing 
many  of  them  an  that  greatest  and  noblest  of  all  vir- 
tues, "love  for  your  neighbor." 

No  people  in  all  this  grand  republic  furnished  truer 
or  biaver  men  for  the  holocaust  of  blood  required  to 
reconsecrate  the  soil  of  America  to  freedom  and  jus- 
tice than  those  whose  homes  are  built  on  the  ruins  of 
Pow-c-shiek's  early  hunting-grounds.  Proud  as  the 
record  may  be,  it  shall  yet  glow  with  names  written 
by  an  almost  supernal  fire,  that  warms  into  life  the 
immortal  thought  of  poets,  and  the  burning  eloquence 
of  orators. 

We  are  proud  of  the  record  of  the  past,  and  cher- 
ish bright  hopes  of  the  future.  But  with  all  our 
pati'iotic  exultations,  memory  of  Pow-e-shiek's  sacri- 
fices comes  up  to  mingle  sadness  with  our  joy.  Sad- 
ness, not  the  offspring  of  reproach  of  conscience  for 
unfair  treatment  to  him  or  his  people  by  those  who 
came  after  he  had  gone  at  the  invitation  of  the  Govern- 
ment, but  sadness  because  he  and  his  people  could 
not  enjoy  what  other  races  always  have,  the  privilege 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


18 


of  a  higher  civilization ;  sadness,  because,  while  our 
gates  are  thrown  wide  open  and  over  them  is  written 
in  almost  every  tongue  known  among  nations,  "Come 
share  our  country  and  our  government  with  us,"  it 
was  closed  behind  him  and  his  race,  and  over  those 
words  painted,  in  characters  which  he  understood, 
"Begone!" 


w 


I ; 


-'!  i , 


f)       :     W 


V   ■  ■ 
V 


I: 


■; 

'1 
1    • 

■  J 

i    ■ 

1     ! 

■  M 

!     1 

.' 

t 

1     '    i 

M 

; 

l| 

i     1    : 

f 

!   "'■'. 
■    i  ■ 
i    1 

i  " 

CHAPTER   II. 

OVERLAND:    BLOOD  FOB  BLOOD. 

In  184:6  Pow-e-shiek  came  with  his  band  to  visit 
his  old  home.  We  were  "  early  settlers "  then,  and 
had  built  our  cabins  on  the  sloping  sides  of  a  bluff 
overlooking  ihe  valley  below.  From  this  outpost  we 
descried  the  bands  of  piebald  ponies  and  then  the 
curling  smoke,  and  next  the  poles  of  his  wick-e-i\ps 
{hmses) ;  and  soon  we  saw  Pow-e-shiek  coming  to 
mr  \«j  known  his  wish  that  he  might  be  permitted  to 
pastm'c  his  stock  on  the  fields  which  we  had  already 
robbed  of  corn.  The  recognition  in  me  of  one  who 
had  assisted  in  removing  his  people  seemed  to  sur- 
prise and  please  him,  and  for  a  moment  hia  eye  lit  up 
as  if  some  fond  realit}-  of  the  past  had  revived  the 
friendship  that  had  gruwn  out  of  my  sympathy  for 
him  in  his  dark  hour  of  departure  from  his  home. 
And  when  I  said,  "  This  is  my  father  and  ray  mother, 
these  my  sisters  and  my  brothers,  and  this  place  is 
our  home,"  he  gave  to  the  welcoming  hands  a  friendly 
grasp  in  evidence  of  his  good  intentions,  and  then 
assured  us  that  no  trouble  on  his  part  should  grow 
out  of  his  coming,  and  that,  if  his  young  men  should 
do  any  dishonest  acts,  he  would  punish  them;  that 
he  had  come  back  to  spend  the  w  nter  once  again  near 
his  haunts  of  olden  times,  perhaps  to  kill  the  deer 
that  he  thought  white  men  did  not  care  about  since 
they  had  so  many  cattle  and  swine.    We  accepted  his 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


95 


assurance,  and  believed  him  to  be  just  what  he  pre- 
tended, —  a  quiet,  honest  old  chief,  who  would  do  as 
he  agreed,  nor  seek  excuse  for  not  doing  so. 

The  dinner  hour  had  passed,  but  such  as  we  had 
my  mother  set  before  him,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  do 
full  justice  to  everything  upon  the  table.  He  made 
sure  that  his  pappooses  should  complete  what  he  be- 
gan by  making  a  clean  sweep  into  one  comer  of  his 
blanket  to  bear  it  to  his  lodge.  After  dinner  he  drew 
out  his  pipe,  and  filling  it  with  Kin-ni-ki-nick  (to- 
bacco), and  lighting  it  with  a  coal  of  fire,  he  first 
sought  to  propitiate  the  Great  Spirit  by  offering  up 
to  him  the  first  puff  of  smoke;  next  the  devil,  by 
blowing  the  smoke  downward,  and  saved  the  third  for 
himself;  and  after  that  he  offered  to  the  fourth  person 
in  his  calendar,  my  father,  the  j)nvilege  of  expressing 
his  approval.  But,  as  he  was  not  a  smoker  himself, 
he  passed  the  pipe  to  his  oldest  son,  intimating  his 
desire  that  he  should  be  represented  by  proxy.  I, 
willing  to  do  his  bidding,  in  friendship  for  our  guest, 
it  may  he,  or  perhaps  from  other  personal  motives, 
soon  reduced  the  Kin-ni-ki-nick  to  ashes  and  handed 
back  the  empty  pipe  to  Pow-e-shiek.  I  knew  not 
thnt  I  had  transgressed  the  rules  of  politeness  until 
afterwards,  when  I  offered  a  pipe  to  our  strange-man- 
nered guest,  he,  with  dignity,  drew  a  puff  or  two  and 
then  passed  it  back,  with  an  expression  of  countenance 
which  declared  unmistakably  that  it  was  meant  for 
rei)roof. 

If  I  felt  resentment  for  a  moment  that  a  savage 
should  presume  to  teach  me  manners,  I  do  not  feel 
that  I  was  the  only  one  who  might  be  greatly  bene- 
fited by  taking  lessons  of  unsophisticated  men  and 


26 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


'.     I 


women  of  other  than  white  blood  ;  not  alone  in 
simple  politeness,  but  also  in  regard  to  right  and 
justice,  whose  flags  of  truce  are  never  raised  ostensibly 
to  insure  protection,  but  really  to  intimidate  the  weak 
and  defenceless,  who  dared  to  stand  up  for  the  God- 
given  rights  to  home  and  country. 

Pow-e-shiek  made  preparations  to  return  to  his 
lodge,  and  we,  boy-like,  followed  him  out  of  the 
cabin  door,  and  while  he  was  saying  good-by  he 
espied  a  fine  large  dog  that  we  had,  named  Yan, 
though  the  name  did  not  indicate  our  politics.  Pow- 
e-shiek  proposed  to  trade  a  pony  for  "  old  Van,"  and 
■v/e  were  phased  at  first,  because  we  thought  the 
pony  would  do  to  ride  after  the  "  breaking  team  "  of 
dewy  triornings  in  the  spring.  But  when  we  learned 
that  "  Van  "  was  wanted  by  the  chief  to  furnish  the 
most  substantial  part  of  a  feast  for  his  people,  we  de- 
murred. "  Old  Van,"  too,  seemed  to  understand  the 
base  use  to  which  he  was  to  be  put,  and  reproached 
us  with  sullen  side-looks;  and  the  trade  wap  aban- 
doned, and  would  have  been  forgotten  only  that  Van 
was  ever  afterward  maddened  at  the  sight  of  Pow-e- 
shiek  or  any  of  his  race. 

The  wmter  passed,  and  our  red  neighbors  had  kept 
their  promise,  for  although  neither  the  granary  nor 
any  other  building  was  ever  locked,  nothing  had 
been  missed;  and  our  mutual  regard  seemed  stronger 
than  when  the  acquaintance  was  renewed.  When 
spring  hfd  fully  come,  Pow-e-shiek,  punctual  to  his 
promise,  broke  up  his  camp  and  went  away. 

Occasionally,  for  years  afterwards,  his  people  came 
back  to  visit;  but  he  no  more. 


ill 


-e- 


w 


I ' 


i  i, 


'     !' 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


29 


Years  have  passed,  and  he  has  joined  the  great 
thvong  in  the  happy  hunting-grounds. 

When  the  gold  fever  v>'as  at  its  height,  in  1850,  in 
company  with  others  I  journeyed  overland  to  the 
new  Eldorado.  While  en  route,  we  heard  much  of 
Indians,  of  their  butcheries  and  cruelties;  I  think 
there  was  good  foundation  for  the  stories.  Indeed,  wo 
saw  so  many  evidences  of  their  handiwork,  in  new- 
made  graves  and  abandoned  wagons  demolished,  that 
there  could  be  no  reasonable  doubt  of  their  savage 
treatment  of  those  who  came  within  their  power. 

While  /  do  not  now,  never  havp,  and  neve?'  will  at- 
tempt to  justify  their  hutclierics,  yet  it  is  hut  fair  that 
both  sides  of  the  story  he  told. 

When  our  party  was  at  "  Independence  Rock,"  in 
1850,  and  no  Indians  had  disturbed  the  passing 
travellers,  near  where  we  were  then,  we  "  laid  over  " 
a  day,  and  within  the  time  a  man  came  into  camp  and 
boasted  that  he  had  "knocked  over  a  buck  at  a  dis- 
tance of  a  hundred  yards,"  and  when  the  query  was 
made  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  his  game  he  produced 
a  bloody  scalp.  He  gave  as  an  excuse  that  the  In- 
dians had  frightened  ar  antelope  he  was  trying  to  kill, 
and  that  he  shot  the  Indian  while  the  latter  was  en- 
deavoring to  get  away.  Is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that  the  friends  of  the  murdered  Indian,  when  he 
came  not  to  the  lodge  at  nightfall,  would  hunt  him 
up,  and  that,  when  his  brother  or  friend  .-^aw  his  scalp- 
less  head,  he  should  avow  to  avenge  his  death? 

Doubtless  he  did  avenge  both  himself  and  his  tribe, 
and  he  may  have  slain  many  innocent  persons  in  re- 
taliation for  this  foul  deed. 

As  to  the  cause  of  the  Indian   troubles  on  the 


1  r 

1 

1  r 

ii 

Hi 


i  hi: 


I 


i 


I 


I  !l 


11 

i 

i 


'1  ! 


30 


WIOWAJI  AND  WARPATH. 


Humbolt  river,  during  the  summer  of  1850, 1  know 
nothing.  Probably  they  originated  in  some  lawless 
act  similar  to  the  one  above  described.  In  September 
following  I  loaned  a  rifle  to  a  miner  who  was  going 
out  on  a  prospecting  tour.  On  his  return  he  proposed 
to  buy  it,  saying  that -"it  was  a  good  one,  he  knew, 
because  he  tried  it  on  an  Indian,  shooting  from  one 
bluff  to  another;  and,"  said  this  civilized  white  man, 
"  I  dropped  him  into  the  river,  and  he  went  where  all 
gooa  Injuns  go." 

LattT  in  the  season  two  friendly  Indians  came  into 
the  town  of  "Bidwell's  Bar,'*  and,  although  no  evidence 
was  produced  against  them,  they  were  arrested  on 
"  general  principles,"  it  was  said ;  and  while  threats 
were  made  of  hanging  them  on  "  general  principles  " 
too,  better  counsels  prevailed,  and  they  were  placed  in 
charge  of  a  guard,  who  were  to  convey  them  to 
*''  Long's  Bar,"  and  turn  them  over  to  the  sheriff  to 
be  held  for  trial. 

The  guard  returned  in  a  short  time,  and  reported 
that  the  prisoners  had  "  slipped  down  a  bank  and  were 
drowned"  It  was,  however,  understood  that  they 
were  killed  by  the  guard  "  to  save  expense."  Fol- 
lowing this  accident  several  white  men  were  murdered 
by  Indians,  it  was  said,  although  the  murdered  men, 
it  was  evident,  had  met  death  through  other  instru- 
mentality than  hows  and  arrows. 

A  company  was  raised  to  go  out  and  punish  the 
offenders.  On  their  return  they  reported  grand  suc- 
cess in  finding  Indian  rancheros,  and  in  the  wholesale 
butchery  they  had  committed.  Do  you  wonder  that 
twenty  or  thirty  white  men  were  riddled  lulth  arrows 
within  a  short  time,  after  such  manly  conduct,  hy  the 
brave  butchers  of  Indian  women  and  children? 


WIOWAM   AND  WAEPAXn. 


31 


know 
iwless 
ember 
going 
)posed 
knew, 
m  one 
e  man, 
lere  all 

ae  into 
^ridence 
ited  on 
threats 
ciples  " 
iaced  in 
lem  to 
eriff  to 

reported 
d  were 
it  they 
Fol- 
irdered 
Id  men, 
instru- 


I  have  not  at  hand  the  data  from  which  to  mention 
in  detail  the  various  Indian  wars  that  harassed  the 
miners  of  California.  Suffice  it  that  they  were  of 
frequent  occurrence,  and,  indeed,  continued  until  the 
mountain  bands  of  Indians  were  broken  up.  If  the 
truth  could  be  heard  from  the  lips  of  both  the  living 
and  the  dead,  we  should  hear  many  things  unpleasant 
to  the  ears  of  white  men  as  well  as  Indians,  and,  per- 
haps, discreditable  to  both.  I  doubt  not  such  revela- 
tion would  support  the  declaration  I  here  make, — that 
had  white  men  have  always  been  the  instigators  of  the 
bloody  deeds  through  which  so  many  innocent  persons 
have  passed  on  to  the  other  life. 

The  proofs  are  not  wanting  in  almost  every  instance 
in  support  of  this  statement.  That  the  Indian  is  vin- 
dictive, is  true  J  that  he  is  brave,  cunning,  and  inhuman 
to  his  enemies  is  also  true;  but  that  he  is  faithful  to 
his  compacts,  whenever  fairly  dealt  with,  is  not  less 
tru<i. 


lish  the 
id  suc- 
lolesalc 
ler  that 
\arrows 
hy  the 


Ff 


CHAPTER  III. 


I 


i 

'ii  I 

!  ii 

■I 

:  :'     ! 


I  >l 


INDIANS  AND  MINERS. 

Walla-Walla,  Washinoton  Tehbitobt, 
February  4th,  18C3. 

Dear  Brother  {Suisun  City,  Cal.):  — 

I  have  found  a  good  country  and  more  business 
than  I  can  manage  alone;  come  and  help  me.  Better 
leave  your  family  until  you  can  see  for  yourself.  You 
may  not  like  it,  though  I  do.  Money  is  plenty,  every- 
thing new,  and  prices  keyed  up  to  old  "  forty-nine " 
times. 

Your  brother, 

H.  J.  MEACHAM. 


'^t 


n  H 


.1 


'■■% 


m   I 


Lke's  Emcahfhent,  fifxt  uiles  sodtu  of  Walla-Walla, 
ON  TOP  OP  Blub  Mocntaik,  March  6,  18C3. 

My  dear  Wife  (Suisun,  Cal.):  — 

"Eureka."  Come;  I  am  camping  in  four  feet  of 
snow,  and  cooking  meals  in  a  frying-pan,  and  charging 
a  dollar;  selling  "slap  jacks"  two  bits  each;  oats 
and  barley  at  twelve  cents,  and  hay  at  ten  cents  per 
pound,  and  other  things  at  same  kind  of  prices;  can't 
supply  the  demand.  Go  to  William  Booth,  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  tell  him  to  ship  you  and  the  children  with 
the  goods,  to  Walla- Walla,  Washington  Territory, 
via  Portland,  Oregon,  care  Wells,  Fargo  &  Co.'s 

Express. 

A.  B.  MEACHAM. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH, 


33 


These  two  letters  are  copied  here,  to  cany  the 
reader  and  the  writer  over  a  period  of  twelve  years, 
leaving  behind  whatever  may  have  transpired  of  in- 
terest to  the  work  now  in  hand,  to  be  taken  up  on 
some  other  page,  in  proper  connection  with  kindi'ed 
subjects  of  later  date. 

Lee's  Encampment  is  located  near  the  summit  of 
the  Blue  Mountains  in  Oregon,  on  the  great  highway 
leading  from  the  Colunil)ia  river  to  the  rich  gold 
fields  of  Idaho  and  Eastern  Oregon.  It  is  fifty 
miles  south  of  Walla- Walla,  and  is  also  one  of  the 
out-boundaries  of  the  Umatilla  Indian  Reservation, 
occupied  by  the  Walla- Walla,  Cayuse  and  Umatilla 
Indians. 

The  roads  leading  out  from  the  several  starting- 
points  on  the  Columl)ia  river,  to  the  mines  above- 
mentioned,  converge  on  the  Reservation,  and,  climbing 
the  mountain's  brow,  on  the  old  "Emigrant  trail," 
cross  over  to  Grand  Round  valley. 

During  the  spring  of  18G3,  the  great  tide  of  miners 
that  flowed  inland,  to  reach  the  new  gold  fields,  nec- 
essarily passed  through  the  Reservation,  and  thence 
via  Lee's  Encampment.  This  circumstance  of  loca- 
tion gave  abundant  opportunity  for  observation  by  the 
writer.  Of  those  who  sought  fortunes  in  the  mines, 
I  might  wa-ite  many  chapters  descriptive  of  the  motley 
crowds  of  every  shade  of  color  and  of  character, 
forming  episodes  and  thrilling  adventures.  But  my 
purpose  in  this  work  would  not  be  subserved  by  doing 
so,  except  such  as  have  bearing  on  the  subject-matter 
under  consideration. 

Of  the  thousands  who  landed  at  Umatilla  City  and 
Walla- AV'alla,  en  route  to  the  "  upper  country,"  few 


I  I'J 


HI 
ili 


!  I 


I ' 


ii 


■  m  V 
St 


II 


I  Ml 


.,1 


m  1  *l 


34 


WIGWAM   AND   WAUrATII. 


brought  means  of  transportation  overland.  There 
were  no  stages,  no  raih'oacls ;  and  what  though  Haley 
&  Ish,  Stephen  Taylor,  and  many  others,  advci'tised 
"  saddle  trains  to  leave  for  the  mines  every  day  of  the 
week,  at  reasonable  rates,"  which  were,  say,  sixty 
dollars,  on  ponies  that  cost  perhaps  forty  dollars;  yet 
there  were  hundreds  that  could  not  get  tickets  even 
at  those  rates.  The  few  who  engaged  reserved  seats 
were  started  off  on  saddle-horses  of  various  grades, 
under  the  charge  of  a  "  conductor,"  whose  pi'incipal 
duty  was,  not  to  collect  fares,  but  to  herd  the  kiichen 
mules,  —  every  train  had  with  it  one  or  more  animals 
on  whose  back  the  supplies  and  blankets  were  carried, 
—  and  indicate  the  camping  places  by  pulling  the  ropes 
that  loosed  the  aforesaid  kitchens  and  blankets,  when, 
like  other  trains,  at  the  pull  of  the  rope,  the  whole 
would  stop,  and  not  be  startled  into  unnecessary  haste 
by  "  twenty  minutes  for  dinner "  sounded  in  their 
ears.  One  or  more  nights  the  camp  would  be  on  the 
Keservation,  thus  bringing  travellers  and  Indians  in 
contact. 

I  have  said  that  many  could  not  get  places,  even  on 
the  backs  of  mules,  or  Cayuse  ponies.  Such  were 
compelled  to  take  "  "Walkers'  line,"  go  on  foot  and 
carry  blankets  and  "  grub  "  on  their  backs.  The  sec- 
ond night  out  would  find  them  also  on  the  Reserva- 
tion, and  those  who  had  the  wherewith,  purchased 
horses  of  the  Indians;  some,  perhaps,  without  consult- 
mg  the  owners.  I^ot  stealing  them !  No.  A  white 
man  would  not  do  so  mean  a  thing ;  but  ropes  are  sus- 
picious things  when  found  in  the  pack  of  one  of 
"  Walker's  "  passengers,  and  if  a  pony  was  fool  enough 
jto  run  his  head  into  a  noose,  the  handiest  way  to  get 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


85 


icre 
alcy 
Iscd 
rthc 
sixty 

;  yet 

even 
seats 
adcs, 
icipal 
ichen 
umals 
irried, 
1  ropes 
when, 
whole 
r  haste 
their 
Dn  the 
ans  in 


clear  of  him  was  to  exchange  with  some  other  man  of 
similar  misfortune,  and  tlien  it  was  not  stealing  in  the 
eyes  of  honest  white  men. 

If  the  Indian  missed  his  propert}'',  and,  hunting 
along  the  line,  found  him  under  a  white  man,  you 
might  suppose  he  could  recover  his  horse.  ]N"ot  so, 
my  lord!  ^ot  so.  The  white  man  had  proof  that 
he  had  bought  him  of  some  other  man,  may  be  an 
Indian.  Such  Avas  sometimes  the  case,  for  I  do  not 
believe  that  all  men  are  honest,  white  or  red;  and  these 
red  men  were  not  behind  the  white  in  sharp  practice; 
and  it  is  safe  to  say,  that  those  of  whom  I  am  w^riting 
now  were  peers  of  those  who  sought  to  outwit  them. 
The  horses  of  saddle  trains  would  sometimes  "  stray 
away,"  —  often  those  of  freighters,  —  and,  since  time 
was  money,  and  strangers  might  not  understand  the 
"  range,"  the  Indians  were  employed  to  hunt  for 
the  straying  animals,  and  paid  liberally  if  they  suc- 
ceeded; and  thus  it  made  the  stock  of  oilier  trains 
restless,  and  of  tan  they  would  run  away  —  and  so  the 
business  increased,  and  the  Indians  grew  wealthier, 
notwithstanding  their  own  sometimes  followed  off  a 
rope  in  the  hands  of  white  men. 

The  road,  along  which  this  stream  of  miners  poured, 
left  the  valley  of  Umatilla  on  the  Reservation,  leading 
up  the  mountains.  Kear  the  foot  of  the  hill,  but  with 
a  deep  ravine  or  gulch'  intervening,  and  on  another 
hill,  —  part  really  of  the  valley,  though  sloping  toward 
the  former, —  was  "The  Trading  Post,"— Indian's 
sutler  store.  'Twas  here  that  saddle  trains  and 
"  Walker's  line,"  halted  for  the  night,  or  "  to  noon  " 
and  rest,  after  travelling  a  fourteen-mile  "  stretch." 
Tiio  "Walker"  passengers  were  already  worn  out, 


<     I 


If 

i 

|:|,j: 

¥h 

il'f' 

:i 

[i 

:  || 

F  '! 

'M  \ 

ih     1' 

1^' 

i 

ill; 

1 

1     \ 

1  1 

■1'-^^  1 

L  Li 

30 


WIOW.VM   AXD   WARPATH. 


with  heavy  packs  of  picks  aiul  pans,  bottles  and  blan- 
kets. The  situation  ot*  the  post,  with  reference  to  the 
mountain,  was  to  an  observer  like  standing  on  the 
sloping  roof  of  one  house  and  measuring  the  "pitch" 
of  the  one  adjoining,  making  it  seem  much  steeper 
than  it  really  is.  So  with  this  mountain.  True,  it 
required  a  broad  upward  sweep  of  vision  to  take  in 
the  height.  On  the  first  bench,  one  mile  above,  the 
trains  and  men  seemed  to  be  transformed  into  dogs 
and  boys.  On  the  second  bench,  two  miles  up,  they 
looked  still  smaller.  On  the  third,  three  miles  up, 
they  very  closely  resembled  Punch  and  Judy  driving 
a  team  of  poodles.  The  Indians  found  here  a  market 
for  their  horses,  and  sometimes  did  a  livery  business, 
in  Indian  style. 

A  stalwart  son  of  Erin,  standing  against  the  wall 
of  the  store  to  "rest  his  pack,'"  after  looking  at  the 
trail  leading  up  the  mountain,  said  to  the  merchant 
doing  business  there,  '*I  say,  misther,  is  it  up  that  hill 
we  go?"  Hearing  an  affirmative  answer,  he  looked 
again  at  each  bench,  his  brow  growing  darker  the 
higher  his  eye  went;  at  length  he  gave  vent  to  his 
estimate  of  the  undertaking  b}^  saying,  "By  the  howly 
St.  Patrick,  if  me  own  mother  was  here  in  the  shape 
of  a  mule,  I'd  ride  her  up  that  hill,  sure  I  I  say,  Mis- 
ther Injun,  wouldn't  you  sell  us  a  bit  of  a  pony  for  to 
carry  our  blankets  an'  things  over  the  mountain  with?" 

The  Indian  had  been  iii  business  long  enough  to 
understand  that,  and  replied,  "Xow-wit-ka  mi-kapot- 
luctch.  Chic-a,  mon,  ni-ka  is-cuni,  cu-i-tan ! " — "  Och ! 
Mister  Injun,  don't  be  makiu'  fun  of  a  fellow,  now,  will 
ye?  It's  very  sore  me  feet  is,  a-carrving  me  pick  and 
pan  and  cookiiig-ti*aps.    Why  don't  you  talk  like  a 


WIOWAM   AND   WAUPATII. 


37 


,he  wall 

at  the 

crcliant 

:hat  hill 
looked 
ker  the 
to  his 
le  howly 
le  shape 
ty,  Mis- 
ty for  to 
with?" 
lUgh  to 
ka  pot- 
"Ochl 
LOW,  will 
lick  and 
like  a 


<f 


daccnt  American  jj^cntlcman?  "  —  "  Wakc-i'^:  ta-cmn- 
tiix,"  said  Tii)-lip-a-noor,  the  Indian.  "  Don't  be  i)lay- 
in'  your  dirty  tongue  on  mo  now,  or  I'll  spoil  your 
beaut ilul  lace  so  I  will." 

Drawing  his  arms  out  of  the  straps  that  had  kept 
the  pack  in  position  on  his  shoulders,  and  lowering  it 
aisy,'*  to  save  tl\e  bottle,  he  began  to  make  demon- 
strations of  hostiivT  character,  when  Mr.  FHp[)in,  the 
post-trader,  explained  that  Tlp-tip-a-noos  had  re})Hed 
to  his  first  request,  "  Yes,  you  show  the  money,  and  I 
will  furnish  the  horse;"  and  he  had  replied  to  the 
second,  "  I  don't  nnderstand  you."  —  "And  is  that  all 
he  says?  Shure,  he  is  a  nice  man,  so  he  is.  Shan't  I 
swaten  his  moiith  wid  a  dhrop  from  me  bottle?"  — 
"^N^o,"  says  Flip.,  "  that  wont  do." — "Away  wid  yees; 
shure,  this  is  a  free  counthry,  and  can't  a  man  do  as  he 
plases  with  Li.  own?"  —  "Not  much,"  replied  Flip. 
"  I  say  now,  Mike,  will  you  join  me  in  the  byln'  of  a 
bit  of  a  pony  for  to  carry  our  blankets  and  things?" 

The  man  addressed  as  Mike  assented  to  the  propo- 
sal, and  soon  Tip-tip-a-noos  brought  a  small  j)into  cal- 
ico-colored horse;  and  after  some  dickering  the  trade 
was  completed  by  Pat,  through  pantomimic  signs,  giv- 
ing Tip  to  understand,  that  if  he  would  follow 
do>vn  into  the  gulch,  out  of  sight  of  Flip,  he  would 
give  him  a  bottle  of  whiskey,  in  addition  to  the  tv^enty 
dollars. 

The  pony  was  turned  over  to  Pat  and  Mike.  The 
next  move  was  to  adjust  the  packs  on  the  Cayuse. 
This  was  not  easily  done.  First,  because  the  pony 
did  not  understand  Pat's  jargon;  second,  they  had  not 
reckoned  on  the  absence  of  a  pack-saddle.  Flip.,  al- 
ways ready  to  accommodate  the  travelling  public,  for 


II I  i  ! 


38 


WIGWAM  AND    WARPATH. 


i     !l 


t|   i^i! 


a  consideration,  brought  an  old  cross-tree  pack-sad- 
dle, and  then  the  lash-ropcs,  —  ropes  to  bind  the  load 
to  the  saddle.  Pat  approached  the  pony  with  out- 
stretched hands,  saying  pretty  things  in  Irish  brogue; 
while  Mike,  to  make  sure  that  tl:c  horse  should  not 
escape,  had  made  it  fast  to  his  waist  with  a  roi)e  hold- 
ing back,  while  Pat  went  forward,  so  that  at  'he  pre- 
eioc  moment  the  latter  had  reached  the  pony's  nose, 
he  reared  up,  and,  striking  forward,  gave  Pat  a  blow 
with  his  fore-foot,  knocking  hun  down.  Seeming  to 
anticipate  the  Ii-ishman's  coming  wrath,  he  whirled  so 
quick  that  Mike  lost  his  balance  and  went  down, 
shouting, "  Sthop  us,  stliop  us;  we  are  running  away!  " 
Pat  recovered  his  feet  in  time  to  jump  on  the  pros- 
trate form  of  Mike,  going  along  horizontally,  at  a 
furious  gait,  close  to  the  pony's  heels.  The  Cayuse 
slackened  his  speed  and  finally  stoppc^d,  but  not  until 
Mike  had  lost  more  or  less  of  clothing,  and  the  "  T/clt " 
from  his  rosy  face. 

"When  the  two  Iri^lnnen  were  once  more  on  foot, 
and  both  holding  to  the  rope,  now  detached  ^'om 
Mike's  waist  at  one  end,  and  buried  into  the  wheezing 
neck  of  the  Cayuse  at  the  otlic,  a  scene  occurred 
that  liierdstadt  should  have  had  I'or  a  subject.  I 
don't  believe  I  can  do  it  j  T^^^^tice,  and  yet  i  desire  my 
readers  to  see  it,  since  the  renowned  painter  above- 
mentioned,  was  not  present  to  represent  it  on  canvas. 

Think  of  two  bloody-nosed  ^  -[ah  lads  holding  the 
poi^y,  while  he  was  pulling  back  until  his  haunches 
almoist  touched  the  ground,  wheezing  for  breath,  oc- 
casionally jumping  forward  to  slacken  the  rope  around 
his  neck,  and  each  time  letting  Pat  and  Mike  fall  sud- 
denly to  the  ground,  swearing  in  good  Irish  style  at 


m 


I  ii 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


39 


k-sad- 
ic  load 
li  out- 
rogue; 
lid  not 
e  hold- 
he  pro- 
's nose, 
,  a  blow 
nuig  to 
lirled  so 
t  down, 
awayl" 
lie  pros- 
ily, at   a 
•  Oayuse 
not  until 
"Tvelt" 

on  foot, 
ed  li'om 
vheezhig 
oceurred 
3Ject.     I 
csire  my 
r  above- 
canvas, 
ding  the 
launches 
ath,  oc- 
e  around 
fall  sud- 
etyle  at 


m 


the  "  spalpeen  of  a  brute "  that  had  no  better  man- 
ners, while  Mr.  Indian  was  laughing  as  he  would 
have  done  his  crymg,  —  away  down  in  his  heart. 
Flip,  and  others  looking  on,  were  doing  as  near  justice 
to  the  occasion  as  possible,  by  laughing  old-fashioned 
horse-laughs,  increasing  with  each  speech  from  Pat 
or  Mike. 

Occasionally,  when  the  Cayuse  would  suddenly 
turn  his  heels,  and  fight  in  pony  style,  Pat  would 
roar  out  Irish,  while  the  horse  would  compel  them 
to  follow  hi'n,  each  with  body  and  limbs  at  an 
angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  until  his  horseship  would 
turn  again,  and  then  they  were  on  a  horizontal  awhile. 
Securing  him  to  a  post,  Pat  said,  "]S^o',.',  be  jabers, 
we've  got  him."  After  slipping  a  shirt  partly  over 
his  head,  to  "  blind  "  him,  they  proceed  to  sinche  —  fas- 
ten —  the  pack-saddle  on  him,  and  then  the  two  packs. 
Wlien  all  was  lasherl  fast,  and  a  hak-i-more —  rope  hal- 
ter —  was  on  his  nose,  they  untied  him  from  the  post, 
and  proposed  to  travel,  but  Cayuse  did  not  budge. 
Mike  pulled  and  tugged  at  the  halter,  while  Pat  called 
him  pretty  names,  and,  vath  outspread  hands,  as 
thoiigli  Ik;  was  herduig  geese,  stamping  his  foot,  coaxed 
pony  to  start.  No  use.  Flip,  suggested  a  sharp  stick. 
Pat  went  for  his  cane,  like  a  man  who  had  been  sud- 
denly endowed  with  a  bright  idea.  After  whittling 
the  end  to  a  point,  he  applied  it  to  the  pony. 

The  next  speech  that  Irishman  made  was  while  in 
half-bent  position.  With  one  hand  on  the  side  of  his 
head,  he  anxiously  addressed  Tip.  "  Meester  Injun,  is 
me  ear  gone?  Meester  Injun,  what  time  of  night  is 
it  now?  I  say,  Meester  Injun,  where  now  is  the  spal- 
peen of  a  pony?" 


40 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


I    ■'         !l 


I    ill 


■  i 


HI 


!  i  '  11  i 


Mike  had  let  go  of  the  rope  soon  after  Pat  applied 
the  sharp  stick,  and  was  following  the  retreating  blan- 
kets and  bottles,  ejaculating,  "The  beautiful  whiske^'^ ! 
The  beautiful  whiskey  I " 

When  Pafs  eyes  were  clear  enough,  Meester  Injun, 
without  a  smile,  pointed  to  the  valley  below,  where 
frying  pans  and  miners  tools  were  performing  a  small 
circus,  much  to  the  amusement  of  a  band  of  Cavuse 
horses,  who  were  following  Pat's  pony  with  consider- 
able in';erest. 

I  don't  think  the  goods,  or  the  whiskey  either,  were 
ever  recovered  by  Pat  and  Mike,  but  I  have  an  idea 
that  "  Tip-tip-a-noor  *'  had  a  big  dance,  and  slept  warm 
under  the  blankets,  md  possibly  a  big  drunk. 

Of  course,  reader,  you  do  not  blame  Irishmen  for 
their  opposition  to  "  The  Humane  Policy  of  the  Gov- 
ernment." 

The  Indian,  however,  if  detected  in  unlawful  acts, 
was  sure  of  punishment  under  the  law,  no  matter 
though  he  may  have  been  incited  to  the  deed  by  whis- 
key he  had  bought  of  white  men,  who  vended  it  in 
violation  of  law.  This  commerce  in  whiskey  was  car- 
ried on  extensively,  notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  a 
very  efficient  agent  to  prevent  it. 

Men  have  started  out  on  "  Walker's  line,"  carrying 
their  blankets,  and  in  a  day  or  two  they  would  be  well 
mounted,  without  resorting  to  a  "  rope  "  or  money  to 
purchase  with,  and  obtain  the  horses  honestly  too ;  that 
is  to  say,  when  they  practised  self-denial,  and  did  not 
empty  the  bottles  they  had  concealed  in  their  packs. 
One  bottle  of  whiskey  would  persuade  an  Indian  to 
dismount,  and  allow  ^he  sore-footed,  honest  miner, 
who  carried  the  bottle,  to  ride,  no  matter  though  the 


WIGWA^I  AND   WARPATH. 


41 


act8, 

natter 

whis- 

S','9 

m 

it  in 

■■■1 

s  car- 

"■". 

i  of  a 

•rying 

cwell 

icy  to 

;  that 

id  not 

lacks. 

an  to 

nmer, 

».^ 

h  the 

horse  may  have  belonged  to  other  parties.  I  have 
heard  men  boast  that  they  were  "riding  a  bottle," 
meaning  the  horse  that  bore  them  along  had  cost  that 
sum. 

Such  things  were  common,  and  could  not  be  pre- 
vented. Young  "  Black  Hawk  "  learned  how  to  speak 
English,  and  make  brick,  and  various  other  arts, 
through  the  kindness  of  the  Superintendent  of  the 
State's  Prison,  These  things  he  might  never  have 
known,  but  for  the  foresight  of  some  fellow  who  dis- 
liked the  fare  on  "  "Walker's  "  line. 

The  question  is  asked,  "  AYhat  was  the  agent  do- 
ing?" He  was  doing  his  duty  as  well  as  he  could, 
with  the  limited  powers  he  possessed.  But  when  he 
sought  to  arrest  the  white  men  who  were  violators  of 
the  laws  of  the  United  States,  he  was  always  met 
with  the  common  prejudices  against  Indian  testimony, 
and  found  himself  defeated.  But,  when  he  was  ap- 
pealed to  for  protection  against  Indian  depredations, 
he  found  sympathy  and  support,  and  few  instances 
occurred  whore  guilty  Indians  escaped  just  punish- 
ment. 

I  knew  the  agent  well,  and  doubted  not  his  sense 
of  justice  in  his  efforts  to  maintain  peace.  If  he  did 
not  mete  out  even-handed  justice  in  all  matters  of 
dispute  between  white  men  and  Indians,  the  fault  was 
not  his,  but  rather  that  of  public  sentiment.  When 
colored  men  were  "niggers,"  the  Indian  "had  no 
rights  that  white  men  were  bound  to  respect." 

He  who  proclaimed  against  the  unjust  administra- 
tion of  law  so  unfavorable  to  the  Indians,  in  courts 
where  white  men  and  Indians  wei-e  parties,  was  de- 
nounced as  a  fanatical  sentimentalist,  and  placed  in  the 


l>  \ 


I 


11!    ' 


ill 


S!:!l    ii 


'  li  1 

■     1 

■  IB    'V 

' 

mP  '  i 

:  !■    1 

1 

i   1 

1  II  li 

1      ] 

i|  : 

'  '  ■ 

;     i.  ' 

i ; 

II 

i   '^ii. 

42 


WIGWAM   AND   WAUPAXn. 


same  category  with  "TVendell  Phillips"  and  "Old 
John  Brown,"  whose  names,  in  former  times,  were 
used  to  deride  and  frighten  honest-thinking  people 
from  the  expression  of  sentiments  of  justice  and  right. 

I  wish  here  to  record  that,  although  we  did  a  large 
amount  of  bu.siness  with  white  men  and  Indians,  we 
nevoi"  had  occasion  to  complain  of  the  latter  for  steal- 
ing, running  off  stock,  or  failing  to  perform,  according 
to  agreement,  to  the  letter,  even  in  matters  left  to 
their  own  sense  of  honor.  > 

On  one  occasion,  "  Cascas,"  a  Reservation  Indian, 
who  ^\  as  under  contract  to  deliver,  once  in  ten  days, 
at  Lee's  Bncampment,  ten  head  of  yearlings,  of 
specified  size  and  quality,  as  per  sample,  at  the  time 
of  making  the  bargain,  brought  nine  of  t^^e  kind 
agreed  upon  and  one  inferior  animal.  Before  driving 
them  into  the  corral,  he  rode  up  to  the  house,  and 
calling  me,  ])ointcd  to  the  small  yearling,  saying  that 
was  "  no  good ;  "  that  he  could  not  find  "  good  ones  " 
enough  that  morning  to  fill  the  contract,  but  if  I 
would  let  the  "  Ten-as-moose-moose  "  —  small  steer  — 
go  in,  next  time,  he  would  drive  up  a  "  Ili-as-moose- 
moose  "  —  big  steer  —  in  place  of  an  ordinary  yearling. 
If  I  was  unwilling  to  take  the  small  one,  he  would 
drive  him  back,  and  bring  one  that  would  be  up  to  the 
standard. 

I  assented  to  the  first  proposition.  Faithful  to  the 
promise,  he  made  up  the  deficiency  with  a  larger  ani- 
mal next  time,  and  even  then  made  it  good. 

Another  circumstance  occurred  which  asserted  the 
honesty  of  these  Indians.  After  we  had  corralled  a 
small  lot  of  cows  purchased  from  them,  one  escaped 
and  returned  to  the  Indian  band  of  cattle,  from  which 


i 


I  "3 


ill 


WIGWAM   AND    AVARPATH. 


43 


she  had  been  driven.  Three  or  four  years  after,  we 
were  notified  by  the  owner  of  the  band  that  ve  had 
four  head  of  cattle  with  his  herd.  True,  it  was  but 
simple  honesty,  and  no  more  than  any  honest  man 
would  have  done;  but  there  are  so  many  who  would 
have  marked  and  branded  the  calves  of  that  little 
herd,  in  their  own  interest,  that  I  felt  it  worthy  of 
mention  here  to  the  credit  of  a  people  who  have  few 
friends  to  speak  in  their  behalf.  I^TotAvithstanding 
their  lives  furnish  many  evidences  of  high  and  hon- 
orable character,  yet  they,  very  much  like  white  men, 
exhibit  many  varieties. 

In  pressing  need  for  a  supply  of  beef  for  hotel  use, 
I  called  on  "  Tin-tin-mit-si,"  once  chief  of  the  Walla- 
Wallas  (a  man  of  extraordinary  shrewdness,  and 
possessed  of  great  wealth,  probably  thirty  thousand 
dollars  in  stock  and  money),  to  make  a  purchase. 
He,  silently,  half  in  pantomime,  ordered  his  horse, 
that  he  might  accompany  me  to  the  herds.  Taking 
with  us  his  son-in-law,  John  McBernc,  as  interpreter, 
we  soon  found  one  animal  that  would  answer  our 
purpose.  The  keen-eyed  old  chief,  with  his  blanket 
drawn  over  his  head,  faced  about,  and  said,  "  How 
much  that  cow  weigh?"  —  "About  four  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds,"  I  answered.  "  How  much  you  charge 
for  a  dinner?"  —  "One  dollar,"  I  responded.  "How 
much  a  white  man  eat?  "  said  "  Tin-tin-mit-si."  I  read 
his  mind,  and  knew  that  he  was  thinking  how  to  take 
advantage  of  my  necessity,  ard,  also,  that  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  the  white  man  ;i  dinner.  I  replied, 
"  Sometimes  one  pound." — "  All  .•  '  •  ,"  quoth  Indian; 
"  you  pay  me  four  hundred  dollars,  then  what  is  over 
will  pay  you  lor  cooking."  — "  But  who  will  pay  me 


'  I 


44  WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 

for  the  coffee,  sugar,  butter,  potatoes,  eggs,  cheese, 
and  other  thmgs?"  I  replied. 

While  Johnny  was  repeating  this  speech  the  old 
chief  moved  up  closer,  and  let  his  blanlset  slip  off  his 
ears,  and  demanded  a  repetition  of  the  varieties  com- 
posing a  Christian  dinner;  and,  while  this  was  being 
done,  he  looked  first  at  the  interpreter,  then  at  me,  and 
said,  in  a  surly,  dry  tone,  "  No  wonder  a  white  man  is 
a  fool,  if  he  eat  all  those  things  at  once;  an  Indian 
would  be  satisfied  with  beef  alone." 

After  some  mathematical  calculations  had  been 
explained,  he  agreed  to  accept  forty-five  dollars,  a 
good,  round  price  for  the  cow.  And  I  drove  away  the 
beast,  while  "  Tin-tin-mit-si "  returned  to  his  lodge  to 
bury  the  money  I  had  paid  him  along  with  several 
thousand  dollars  he  had  saved  for  his  sons-in-law  to 
quarrel  over;  for  the  old  chief  soon  after  sent  for  his 
favorite  horse  to  be  tied  near  the  door  of  his  lodge, 
ready  to  accompany  him  to  the  happy  himting- 
grounds,  where,  according  to  Indian  theology,  he  has 
been  telling  his  father  of  the  strange  people  lie  had 
seen. 


ai  'I 


*  i 


CHAPTER  IV. 


DIAMOND-CUT-DIAMOND. 


It  was  understood,  in  the  treaty  stipulation  with  the 
Government  and  these  people,  that  they  were  to  have 
the  privilege  of  hunting  and  grazing  stock  in  com- 
mon with  citizens  on  the  public  domain.  In  the  exer- 
cise of  this  right,  they  made  annual  journeys  to  Grand 
Round  and  other  valleys,  east  of  the  Blue  mountains, 
driving  before  them,  on  these  journeys,  their  horses. 
They  were  often  thus  brought  in  contact  with  white 
settlers,  and  sometimes  difficulties  occurred,  growing, 
generally,  cut  of  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  to 
them  by  unprincipled  white  men. 

Indians  are  not  better  than  white  men,  and,  when 
drunk,  they  exhibit  the  meaner  and  baser  qualities  of 
their  nature  as  completely  as  a  white  man.  Deliver 
us  from  either,  but  of  the  two,  an  intoxicated  white 
man  has  the  advantage;  he  is  not  held  responsible  to 
law.  The  Indian  has  one  privilege  the  civilized  white 
brother  is  not  supposed  to  enjoy.  He  can  abuse  his 
family,  and  us  long  as  he  is  sober  enough  can  whip 
his  squaw;  but  woe  be  to  him  when  he  gets  past  fight- 
ing, for  then  the  squaw  embraces  the  opportunity  of 
beating  him  in  turn,  and  calls  on  other  squaws  to 
assist  in  punishing  her  lord  for  past  as  well  as  present 
ofiences. 

The  chiefs  generally  watch  over  their  men,  to  pre- 
vent the  purchase   of  liquor  by  them.      "Homli," 


46 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


■  n 


chief  of  the  Walla-Wallas,  sometimes  punished  his 
braves  in  a  summaiy  manner  for  getting  drunk,  using 
a  horsewhip  in  the  public  streets.  However  worthy 
the  example,  I  believe  that  it  was  not  often  followed 
by  others  of  either  race. 

The  annual  visits  of  which  I  have  spoken  occurred 
in  the  latter  part  of  June,  when  the  mountain  sides  of 
Grand  Ivound  valley  were  offering  tempting  induce- 
ments in  fields  of  huckleberries.  The  valley,  too,  — 
where  not  enclosed  and  turned  to  better  use,  —  was 
blooming  with  Indian  "  muck-a-muck,"  a  sweet,  nutri- 
tious root  called  ca-mas,  with  which  the  Indian  women 
filled  baskets  and  sacks,  in  which  to  carry  it  to  their 
homes  for  winter  use. 

The  beautiful  river  of  Grand  Round  was  inviting 
the  red  men  to  war  against  the  shining  trout  and  salm- 
on, that  made  yearly  pilgrimage  to  greater  alti- 
tudes and  cooler  shades,  there  to  woo  and  mate,  and 
thus  to  people  the  upper  waters  w;ith  finny  children, 
who  would,  in  time  of  autumn  leaves,  go  to  the  great 
river  below,  and  come  again  when  mountain  snows, 
now  changed  to  foaming  torrents,  hastened  to  the 
river's  mouth,  and  tempting  salmon  flies  had  come 
from  their  hiding  places,  and  swarmed  on  bush  and 
bank,  to  lure  the  fish  onward  and  upward,  or  beguile 
them  to  the  fisher's  net,  or  hidden  spear,  if,  perchance, 
they  were  warned  away  from  angler's  line,  or  escaped 
the  lightning  arrow  of  Indian  boys. 

Then,  too,  this  beautiful  garden  of  the  mountains 
wore  its  brightest  hues  on  plain  and  sloping  hills  and 
cultured  field.  The  farmers  were  idle  then,  and  often 
went  to  join  the  red  men  in  racing  horses,  and  chasing 
each  other  in  mimic  wars.     Sometimes  the  two  would 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


47 


engage  in  trades  of  wild  Cayuses  (Indian  horses), 
teaching  eacli  other  how  to  tame  these  fiery  steeds. 
Gi'cat  circus  shows  were  these,  in  which  the  red  man 
might  for  once  laugh  at  the  white  man's  clumsy  imi- 
tations of  red  men's  daily  i-ecreations. 

Again,  the  red  man  had  sweet  revenge  for  sharper 
practice  which  he  had  felt  at  the  hands  of  his  Avhite 
brother.  Selecting  some  ill-natured  beast,  whose 
tricks  he  well  knew,  he  would  offer  him  at  a  price  so 
low,  that  some  white  man  who  was  tired  of  going  to 
his  neighbors  for  a  ride,  or  had  a  hopeful  son  anxious 
to  imitate  little  Indian  boys  in  feats  of  horsemanship, 
would  purchase  him.  Then  fun  began,  to  witness 
which  the  town  sometimes  turned  out.  The  colt,  un- 
used to  civilized  bit  or  spur,  would,  like  his  former 
owner,  show  contempt  for  burdens  he  was  not  made 
to  bear  without  "  bucking."  When,  with  bridle  and 
saddle,  and  rider,  all  new,  surrounded  by  scenes  un- 
like his  coltship's  haunts,  he  was  called  upon  to  forward 
move,  he  would  stand  as  if  turned  to  marble,  until  by 
persuasion  of  whip  and  spur  he'd  change  his  mind. 
Then,  with  a  snort,  a  bound,  or  upward  motion  of  his 
back,  his  nostrils  buried  in  the  dust,  he'd  whirl  and 
whirl  until  the  rider  dizzy  grew,  of  which  circum- 
stance he  seemed  aware,  when,  with  all  his  power 
brought  into  quick  use,  he  sent  the  rider  in  mid-air  or 
overhead,  and  straightway  bent  each  bound  toward 
his  former  home,  followed  by  loud  shouts  of  laughter, 
made  up  of  voices  joined  of  every  kind  and  age,  ex- 
cept perhaps  that  of  the  disgusted  father  —  who  had 
sundry  dollars  invested  in  furniture  on  the  runaway's 
back  —  and  the  crying  boy  in  the  dust. 

The  chances    against  the  new  owner's  boy  ever 


48 


WIGWAM  AND   WAKPATII. 


i  i 


!' 


!;  Ill 


'II    i 


"  putting  on  much  style  "  on  that  pony  were  not  very 
numerous.  Fearing  as  much,  tlie  next  proposition 
was  to  sell  the  pony  back  t.^  "  Mr.  Injun  "  at  a  heavy 
discount;  Avhich  Avas  done  much  against  the  wishes 
of  the  dethroned  boy,  whose  aspirations  for  western 
honor  were  thereby  "  nipped  in  the  bud." 

A  lawyer  of  "La  Grande,"  celebrated  for  his 
shrewdness  in  Ijusiness  generally,  and  who  was  the 
father  of  several  (>nterprising  sons,  made  an  invest- 
ment in  Cayuse  stock,  for  the  benefit  of  the  aforesaid 
boys,  and  fearing  that  he,  too,  might  go  in  mourning 
over  the  money  thus  spent,  in  fatherly  tenderness 
determined  that  he  himself  would  ride  the  pony 
first. 

The  horse  was  saddled,  and  led  by  a  long  rope  to 
the  ofiice  door.  The  lawyer  said,  "  ]N^ow,  Charley, 
I'll  fool  that  pony,  sure.  I'm  little,  you  know,  and 
he'll  think  I'm  a  boy."  The  rope  was  made  fast  to  an 
awning-post,  and  then,  in  presence  of  a  hopeful  audi- 
ence, he  mounted  slowly,  though  in  full  lawyer's  dress, 
a  bell-crowned  "  plug  "  (hat)  included.  When  softly 
springing  in  the  stirrups,  to  assure  himself  all  was 
right,  and  confident  that  his  "  nag  "  was  there,  subject 
to  his  will,  he  essayed  to  display  his  horsemanship. 
But  pony  was  not  ready  then.  The  lawyer  called  for 
whip  and  spurs,  and  without  dismounting  they  were 
furnished,  and  while  holding  out  his  foot  to  have  the 
spur  put  on,  remarked  that  "  he  did  not  half  like  the 
white  of  the  pony's  eye.  But,  boys,  I'll  stick  while 
the  saddle  does."  With  sober  face  and  eye  fixed  on 
the  ears  in  front,  he  coaxed  again,  and  with  soft; 
speech  sought  to  change  the  pony's  mind.  But  he 
was  not  ready  now,  until  he  felt  the  rowel  stick  into 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


41) 


his  sides,  and  then  away  went  horse  and  rider  together, 
to  the  end  of  the  rope,  where  the  pony  stopped,  though 
the  hiwyer  did  not,  until  his  liead  had  struck  the 
crown  of  his  hat;  and  not  then  even,  l)ut,  going  at  a 
furious  rate,  the  lawyer,  hat,  and  torn  trowsers  had 
landed  all  in  a  heap  on  the  other  side  of  the  street; 
the  awning-post  gave  way,  and  the  lawyer's  Cay  use 
went  oir,  with  a  small  part  of  the  town  following  him. 

The  language  used  hy  him  on  this  occasion  con- 
sisted not  of  quotations  from  Blackstone,  or  the  Bihlc 
either,  unless  in  detached  words  i)ut  strangely  in  shape 
to  answer  immediate  use.  It  is  not  safe  to  say  any- 
thing about  fooling  ponies,  in  court  or  elsewhere,  in 
the  town  of  La  Grande,  unless  the  si)eaker  wants 
war.  That  lawyer,  although  a  stanch  liepublican, 
and  liable  to  be  a  candidate  for  Congress,  is  strongly 
opposed  to  President  Grant's  peace  policy  with 
Indians,  —  the  Umatilla  Indians  in  particular. 

To  say  that  Chief  Ilomli  and  his  tribe  enjoyed  little 
episodes,  growing  out  of  horse-trading  with  the  citi- 
zens of  La  Grande,  is  too  gentle  and  soft  a  way  of 
telling  the  truth,  and  have  it  well  understood,  unless 
Ave  add  the  westernism  "  hugely." 

These  visits  had  other  beneficial  results  than  those 
growing  out  of  trade,  since  they  extended  over  the 
Fourth  of  July,  when  all  the  peoj)le  of  the  valley 
came  together  to  celebrate  the  "nation's  birthday," 
when,  with  fife  and  drum,  the  country-folks  would 
join  with  those  in  town,  who  "  marched  up  a  street 
and  then  marched  down  again,"  to  the  willow-covered 
stand,  where  readers  and  orators  would  rehearse,  one, 
the  history  of  the  "Declaration,"  the  other,  repeat 
some  great  man's  speech. 


50 


WIGWAJI   AND    WARPATH. 


III! 


1^    '■.•Ml 


The  tables  j;roaned  beneath  the  loads  of  viands, 
spread  by  gentle  women's  hands.  The  leader  and 
the  orator  oi"  the  day  wonld  take  positions  at  either 
end,  and  the  meek  eha[)lain  in  between,  while  the 
bashful  country  boys  would  lead  up  their  girls,  until 
the  table  had  been  tilled.  Ilonili  and  his  people, 
dressed  in  Fourth-of-July  regalias,  would  look  on 
from  respectful  distance,  and  wonder  what  the  reader 
meant,  when  he  said,  "All  men  are  born  free  and 
equal,"  and  wondered  more  to  hear  a  wicked  orator 
protest  that  ihe  "  Hag  above  was  no  longer  a  llamiting 
lie."  The  Indians  were  then  serving  in  the  house  of 
a  foolish  old  man,  named  Esau.  When  fair  lips 
refused  hjuger  to  taste,  and  manly  breast  was  filled 
too  full  for  utterance,  Ilomli  and  his  people  were  in- 
vited to  partake.  Some  of  his  people  accepted  the 
gift  of  the  remnants;  but  he,  Ilomli,  never. 

In  the  absence  of  better  pastime,  the  crowd  would 
come  again  to  the  grand  stand,  to  give  opjjortunity 
for  disai)pointed  spouters  to  ventilate  pent-up  patri- 
otism. Ilomli,  too,  made  a  speech,  and  w^ith  keen 
rebuke  referred  to  days  gone  by,  when  white  men 
had  come  to  his  lodge,  and  craved  his  hospitality;  how 
his  women  had  culled  their  berr^-baskets  to  find  some- 
thing worthy  of  the  white  man's  taste,  and  how  the 
finest  trout  had  been  ofiered  in  proof  of  friendship  for 
the  stranger  guest,  and  boasted  that  he  had  given  the 
finest  horses  of  his  band  to  help  the  stranger  on,  and 
sent  an  escort  of  trusty  braves  to  direct  him  over  all 
doubtful  trails.  He  boasted,  too,  that  no  white  man's 
blood  had  ever  stained  his  hand,  even  when  he  was 
sti'ong,  and  they  were  weak;  then,  with  well-made 
gesture,  pointed  to  the  valley,  once  all  his  own,  and 


' 

}:;i 


% 


m- 


WIGWAM   AND   WAUrATII. 


51 


ancls, 
•  and 
eitlier 
e  the 
,  until 
leople, 
ok  on 
render 
ic  a"d 
orator 
amting 
)use  of 
lir  lips 
IS  iilletl 
v^crc  in- 
)ted  the 


covered  with  .•^ntclope  and  feathery  trihes.  No  Iiouhcs, 
fields,  or  barns  marred  tlien  the  beautiful  xalley  of  the 
mountain.  Tiu-ning'  half  around,  he  gazed  at  people 
and  town,  and  nadly  motioned  to  the  mountain-sides, 
robbed  of  fir  and  pine,  and  seemed  to  drink  in,  what, 
to  him,  was  desolation  made  complete.  With  eye 
half  closed,  he  mused  a  moment,  and  then  broke  forth 
like  some  brave  soul  that  had  mastered  self,  and  was 
reconciled  to  the  inexorable  destiny  that  his  mind  had 
seen  in  store,  declared  that  he  would  be  a  man 
himself,  with  white  man's  heart,  and  that  his  people 
would  yet  join  with  pride  in  the  coming  celebra- 
tions. 

The  triumph  of  civil  hopes  over  savage  mind  was 
complete,  and  when  the  change  was  realized  by  the 
lookers-on,  they  gathered  round  the  chieftain,  and 
gave  him  welcome  to  a  brotherhood  born  of  a  nation's 
struggles  to  redeem  mankind,  when  the  white  men 
were  few  and  Ilomli's  people  numerous  as  the  stars 
that  looked  do>Mi  on  the  rivers  of  this  beautiful  land. 
"Who  shall  rememljer  the  mild  reproof  of  Ilomli,  wdien 
he,  under  the  humane  and  enlightened  policy  of  the 
GoveiTunent,  shall  have  made  good  this  declaration  to 
be  a  white  man  in  heart  and  practice? 

Little  things  sometimes  move  in  harmony  until  they 
unite,  and  make  up  an  aggregate  of  causes,  whose 
combined  power  becomes  irresistible  for  good  or  ill 
to  peoples,  tribes,  and  nations. 

The  chieftain  of  whom  I  write  had,  at  various 
times,  felt  the  thongs  that  bound  him  to  his  savage 
habits  loosening,  little  by  little,  until  at  last,  under 
the  influence  of  the  patriotic  joy  of  freemen,  he  him- 
self had  stepped  from  under  a  shadow  that  was  once 


i  i  r'  ! 


52 


WIGWAM   AlsD   WARPATH. 


I' 


m  !i! 


?    ,';1i-i 


rilNi 


a  beiiison,  but  had  now,  because  of  his  eiihghtenment, 
become  a  barrier  to  his  happiness. 

The  change  was  real,  and  the  heart  that  had  come 
laden  with  reproach  to  hh  neighbor,  and  felt  the  sting 
of  slighted  manhood,  now  exulted  in  the  recognition 
he  had  found  in  the  sunshine  of  American  Indepen- 
dence, and  the  warm  hands  of  freedom's  sons,  who 
bade  him  welcome  to  a  better  life. 

No  human  brain  can  correctly  measure  the  influence 
of  such  events.  Ilomli,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  chief  of 
the  Walla- Wallas,  who,  in  conjunction  with  the  Uma- 
tihas  and  Cayuses,  occupied  the  reservation  spoken 
of  as  "Umatilla"  (horse-heaven),  it  being  the  orig- 
inal home  of  the  tribe  bearing  that  name.  In  1856, 
the  three  tribes  above  named  united  in  treaty  coun- 
cil with  the  Government,  rep"  isented  by  the  lamented 
J.  I.  Stevens  and  General  Joel  Palmer. 

T'liis  treaty  was  conducted  with  firmness  and  on 
principles  of  justice,  the  Indians  having,  in  this  in- 
stance at  least,  half  "  the  say."  By  the  terms  agreed 
npou,  a  portion  jf  country  was  reserved  by  the  three 
tribes  for  a  i)ermanen'  home,  to  be  held  jointly 
by  them.  It  is  located  on  one  of  the  tributaries  of 
the  Columbia,  known  as  the  Umatilla  river.  The 
out -boundaries  measured  one  hundred  and  three 
miles,  covering  a  country  possessing  many  natural 
advantages,  conducive  to  Indian  life,  and  of  great 
value  in  the  transfei*  of  these  people  from  a  barbarous 
to  a  civilized  condit'on. 

Its  surface  is  diversified  with  rich  prairie  lands, 
producing  an  excellent  quality  of  bunch  grasr> — so 
called  becaiise  of  its  growing  in  tussocks, —  covering 
not  more  than  half  the  surface  of  the  ground,  the 


WIGWAM   AND  WAK^'ATII. 


53 


remainder  being  entirely  devoid  of  vegetation,  very 
nutricious  and  well  adapted  to  grazing. 

The  mountains  are  partly  covered  with  forests  of 
pine  and  fir,  valuable  for  commercial  and  building 
purposes,  '^lie  streams  are  rapid,  with  bold  shores, 
abounding  in  laten^,  power,  waiting  for  the  tii.ne  when 
labor  and  capital  shall  harness  its  cataracts  to  ma- 
ciiinery,  whose  music  will  denote  the  transformation 
process  going  on  in  the  forest  of  the  mountain;  the 
fleeces  from  the  plain,  and  in  the  cereals  they  contain, 
in  embryo,  for  better  use  than  shading  herds  of  cattle 
and  Indian  horses,  or  its  fleeces  made  traffic  for 
traders  and  shippers,  who  enrich  themselves  by 
taking  them  in  bulk  and  returning  in  manufactured 
exchanges;  or  for  its  fields  to  lie  dormant  a'ld  idle, 
while  commerce  invites  and  starving  people  clamor 
for  bread  they  might  be  made  to  yield. 

True,  its  almost  unbroken  Avilderness,  echoing  the 
call  of  cougar  or  cayote  (ki-o-te)  ;  its  tall  gras^s  plains, 
tangled  and  trembling  with  the  tread  of  twenty  thou- 
sand horses;  its  valleys  decked  with  carpets  of 
gorgeous  flowers,  —  fit  patterns  for  the  costumes  of 
those  w  ho  dance  thereon,  —  or  speckled  with  baby 
farms,  belonging  to  red-skinned  ploughmen,  or  shaded 
by  the  smoke  of  council  wigwams ;  its  waters  some- 
times shouting,  as  if  in  pain,  while  hurrying  headlong 
against  the  rock,  or,  laughing  beneath  the  balm-wood 
trees  at  the  gambols  of  its  owui  people,  or,  divided 
into  an  hundred  streams,  go  rushing  on,  still  play- 
ing -nirror  for  the  smiling  faces  of  the  youths,  wiiose 
hearts  and  actions  take  pattern  after  its  own  freedom; 
true,  indcL  1,  that  this  lovely  spot  of  earth  seems 
to  have  been  the  special  handiwoi-k  of  the  Almighty, 


54 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


'I '8  iil! 


fi     'I 

'I 


II   ir 


i" 


ijii 


ji: 

:ii 

i 
1 

ii 

who  had  withheld  from  other  labors  the  cnoicest  gems 
of  beauty,  that  he  might  make  a  paradi.se,  where 
youth  could  keep  pace  with  passing  years,  until  the 
change  of  happy  hunting-grounds  should  be  noted 
only  by  the  wail  of  weeping  widows,  or  sighs  of  sor- 
rowing orphans. 

'Twas  to  this  Indian  paradise  that  Homli  returned 
from  his  summer  visit,  his  heart  laden  with  new  feel- 
ings of  pride;  for  he  had  been  recognized  as  a  man. 
If  he  did  not  then  begin  to  enjoy  the  realization  of 
his  hopes,  there  were  reasons  why  he  did  not  that 
few  have  understood. 

Born  to  a  wild,  free  life,  possessed  of  a  country 
such  as  few  ever  enjoy,  with  a  channel  of  commerce 
traversing  his  home ;  brought  in  constant  contact  with 
white  men,  some  of  whom,  at  least,  he  found  to  be 
soulless  adventurers,  ever  ready  to  take  advantage  of 
his  ignorance  of  trado ;  confused  and  bewildered  by 
the  diversity  of  opinions  on  political  and  religious 
subjects;  witnessing  the  living  falsehood  of  much  of 
civilized  life;  but  half  understanding  the  ambitions 
of  his  "  new  heart,"  or  the  2)rivilege  he  was  entitled 
to;  with  the  romance  of  his  native  education  in  mat- 
ters of  religion,  its  practical  utility  to  satisfy  his 
longings  that  reached  into  the  future,  or  to  meet  the 
demands  of  conscience,  where  duty  led  him,  or  anger 
at  insult  drove  him;  the  performance  of  its  ceremonies, 
connecting  social  with  religious  rites, —  added  to  these 
the  power  that  his  red  brethren  who  were  yet  un- 
touched by  the  finger  of  dostiny,  and  were  luxuriating 
in  idle,  careless  life,  enhanced  by  the  sight  of  the 
hardened  hands  and  sweating  brows  of  those  who 
soujyht  to  find  admission  to  circles  where  labor  insures 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


55 


^ems 
here 
L  the 
loted 
'  sor- 

irned 
'  feel- 
man, 
on  of 


hat 


t  t 


j\intry 
imcrce 
ct  with 
to  be 
age  of 
red  by 
liglous 
uch  of 
l)ltlons 
ntitled 
n  mat- 
4y  his 
et  the 
anger 
bonies, 
lo  these 
let  nn- 
Iriating 
of  the 
^e  who 
insures 


reward;  confused  when  witnessing  the  cnfoi-cement 
of  laws  "that  are  saf)posed  to  be  uniform  in  opera- 
tion," b}  the  outrageous  partiality  shown ;  treated  with 
coldness  and  distrust,  because  of  his  color ;  envied  of 
his  possessions,  to  which  he  had  an  inalienable  right, 
by  deed  from  God,  and  confirmed  by  the  government 
of  the  United  States;  compelled  to  hear  the  constant 
coveting  of  others  for  it,  and  to  hear  government  de- 
nounced because  it  did  not  rob  him  of  his  home;  to 
see  distrust  in  every  action  toward  him;  his  manhcad 
ignored,  or  crushed  by  cruel  j^ower;  his  faith  shaken; 
treated  as  an  alien,  even  in  his  birthplace;  taunted 
with  the  threat  that  when  he  planted  his  feet  on  higher 
plains,  he  should  be  crowded  off,  or  forced  to  !?tand 
tottering  on  the  brink;  li'.s  fears  aroused  by  the 
threats  he  overheard  of  being  finally  driven  away;  of 
si^eculations  on  the  future  towns  that  should  spring 
up  over  the  graves  of  his  fathers,  when  he  was  not 
there  to  defend  them, — added  to  all  these  discourage- 
ments the  oppressions  of  his  would-be  teachers,  in 
moral  ethics  and  religion;  demanding  his  attendance 
on  ceremonies  that  were  intangible,  incomprehensible, 
to  his  mind,  made  more  unbearable  by  the  tyranny  of 
his  red  brethren,  growing  out  of  their  recognition 
of  church-membership,  and  the  consequent  arrogance, 
even  contempt,  with  which  they  spoke  of  his  religious 
habits  and  ceremonies;  unable  to  reconcile  the  prac- 
tices of  these  people  with  the  precepts  of  their  priest ; 
ostracised  from  those,  who,  while  untouched  by  the 
hand  of  Christianity,  had  mingled  voice  and  prayer 
with  him  in  wilder  worship;  finding  friends  among 
white  men,  whose  hearts  were  true,  but  who,  in- 
stead of  soothing  his  troubled   feelings  by  patiently 


•M")    -ill 


I  m'i 


:l     ,   t 


66 


WIGWAM   AND   WARrATH. 


teaching  him  charity  and  lilieral-mindccl  views  toiicli- 
ing  matters  of  religious  practice  of  his  Catliolic  friends 
and  their  ministers,  would  pile  the  fagots  on  the 
burning  altar  'twixt  him  and  them,  increasing  dis- 
trust, making  the  breach  wider,  thus  becoming 
alienated  from  the  other  chiefs,  llow-lish-wam-po, 
of  Cayuse,  and  We-nap-snoot,  of  the  Unritillas, 
and  those  of  their  tribes  who  had  been  led,  by  minis- 
trations of  priest  and  chief,  to  the  solemn  masses  of 
the  church:  if  then  Ilomli  failed  to  be  a  "white 
man  "  in  heart,  on  whom  does  the  responsibility  rest? 

I  have  iiot  dealt  in  fiction,  but  have  stated  the  cir- 
cumstance plainly,  the  truth  of  which  will  not  be 
questioned  by  those  whoso  personal  knowledge  quali- 
fies them  for  passing  judgment,  unless,  indeed,  it  be 
those  whose  minds  have  been  trained  to  run  in  narrow, 
bigoted  grooves,  whose  hearts  have  never  felt  the 
warming  influences  of  the  high  and  pure  love  for 
truth  that  characterizes  a  noble  Christian  manhood, 
and  whose  measure  of  right  is  made  by  the  petty  and 
self/  .J  'uterest  of  himself,  who,  with  the  judgment  of 
a  truckling  demagogue,  barks  for  pay  in  popular  ap- 
plause or  political  reward. 

For  the  present,  I  leave  my  readers  to  chide  Ilomli 
for  his  failure,  if,  indeed,  they  can,  with  the  facts 
before  them.  As  to  the  responsibility,  I  shall  discuss 
the  subject  fully  and  fearlessly  on  some  future  page 
of  this  work,  where  the  argument  for  and  against  the 
several  "policies"  may  be  made  and  applied  in  a 
general  way  in  the  consideration  of  the  subject  of 
"  Indian  civilization." 


CHAPTER     Y. 


PGLK  lES  ON  TRIAL— "ONE ATTA." 


In"  the  fall  of  186G,  the  "Oregon  Delegation,"  in 
"Washington,  proposed  the  name  of  the  anthor  of  this 
book  for  appointment  as  Superintendent  of  Indian 
Affairs  in  Oregon. 

President  Johnson,  on  inqnirj-,  learned  that  he 
was  not  a  "  Johnson  man,"  and,  of  course,  refused  to 
make  the  nomination. 

The  recommendation  of  the  author's  name  was 
made  without  Ms  solicitation  or  knowledge.  On  the 
accession  of  P  -esident  Grant,  the  recommendation 
was  renewed,  the  nomination  was  made  and  con- 
firmed by  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  ;  bonds 
filed,  Oatiis  of  office  administered,  and  notice  given 
to  my  predecessor ;  and  on  the  1st  of  May,  18G9,  I 
assumed  the  duties  of  the  office  indicated. 

The  new  administration  had  the  Indian  qnestion 
in  transit,  between  three  policies:  The  old  way, 
^^  Civil  Service,''''  ^^  The  War  Department  Policy, ^^ 
and  General  Grant's  "  Quaher  Policy.'''' 

With  good  intention,  doubtless,  the  several  policies 
were  put  on  trial. 

Oregon  supcrintendency  and  all  its  agencies  were 
assigned  to  the  tender  care  of  the  War  Department 
policy,  and  I  was  ordered  to  turn  over  my  office  to 
an  oificer  of  the  army,  even  before  I  luid  performed 


'     8 

11     il 


I 


I  v.i 


Mi 

■ 

1 

t  ii  1 

i: 
i! 

1 

^  '^  h;! 

JU 

1  ■ 

\ 

• 

58 


wigwa:m  and  wahpath. 


an  important  official  duty.  Remonstrance  was  made 
by  the  people  of  Oregon  against  the  change. 

A  compromise  was  effected.  I  was  retained  as 
Supeiintcndent,  and  Hon.  Ben.  Simpson,  Agent  at 
Siletz,  and  Capt.  Charles  Lal'ollette,  Agent  at 
Grand  lionnd  also  of  the  civil  service  policy.  The 
remainder  of  the  agencies  were  assigned  to  officers 
of  the  army.  This  mixing  np  of  elements  was 
somewhat  embarrassing  for  a  thne. 

I  began  again  my  official  duties.  From  the  records 
in  the  Superintendent's  Office,  Salem,  Oregon,  I 
learned  the  location  and  something  of  the  condition 
of  the  several  agencies  under  my  charge. 

"  T/^e  Coast  Reservation,^''  covering  three  hundred 
miles  of  the  Pacific  coast,  embraced  several  stations, 
or  agencies,  comprising  not  more  than  one-third  the 
territory  within  its  boundaries.  It  had  never  been 
ceded  to  the  Government,  neither  acquired  by  con- 
quest, but  was  set  apart  by  an  act  of  Congress  for  the 
benefit  (t'  the  several  tribes  of  the  "Willamette 
valley.  It  is  partly  timbered  and  generally  moun- 
tainous. It  abounds  in  resources  suitable  to  Indian 
savage  life. 

On -e  this  Avild  region  had  been  peopled  with  deer 
and  elk,  whose  plaintive  call  had  led  thecotigar  to  his 
feast,  or  qtiickened  the  steps  of  the  huntsman,  Avhose 
steady  nerves  enabled  him  to  glide  through  the 
tanglewood,  bearing  with  him  images  of  his  children 
(who,  dependent  upon  his  archery,  awaited  his 
rettn-n)  ;  and  of  faithful  clutchmen  (sqtiaws),  whose 
eyes  wotdd  kindle  at  sight  of  hunter,  laden  with 
frtiits  of  the  chase,  that  were  to  be  food  and  clothing 
for   her   little   ones.     These  forest  trees  had   ntood 


■^ 


1 


n 


II  % 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATII. 


59 


ade 

I  as 
t  at 
:  at 
The 

Leers 
was 

3ords 
)n,  I 
lition 

iidred 

itions, 

rd  the 

been 

con- 

'or  the 
mette 
noun- 
ndian 

II  deer 
Ito  his 
whose 
ih   the 
iildren 
Id    his 
whose 
with 

)thing 
ntood 


sentinels,  guarding  its  people,  from  the  gaze  of  tamer 
hmitsmen,  and  from  the  rough  ocean  winds  that 
sweep  the  coast;  or,  uttering  hoarser  sounds,  or 
sighing  songs,  warning  of  coming  storms,  that  some- 
times beat  the  white-winged  ship,  laden  with  mer- 
chandise, from  foreign  lands,  against  the  rocky  shore 
(whose  caverns  were  the  refuge  of  sea-lions),  oi', 
echoing  back  Pacific's  roar,  were  waiting  for  the 
debris  from  wrecks  of  stately  crafts,  or  coming  of 
sea- washed  mariners. 

Then,  at  such  perilous  times,  the  peoples  of  this 
wild  western  verge  of  continent  would,  in  pure 
charity,  build  warning-fires  on  higher  blutl's,  at  night- 
fall, and  thus  give  signals  of  danger;  or,  mayhap, 
they  sometimes  built  them  to  decoy,  in  order  to 
ave'ge  insult  (or  wrong,  real,  or  imaginary)  of 
some  former  seaman,  who  had  repaid  them  for  good 
will  by  treacherous  act  of  larceny  of  some  dusky 
maiden,  or  black-eyed  boy,  or  stalwart  warrior,  car- 
ried away  to  other  lands. 

Ti-adition's  living  tongue  has  furnished  foundation 
for  the  pictures  I  have  made.  And  many  times  to 
listening  ears  the  story  has  been  told,  changed  only 
in  the  name  of  maiden,  or  boy,  or  braves,  as  date  or 
location  gave  truth  to  the  sorrowing  tale. 

Living  still,  on  a  homci  sot  apiiil  by  the  State,  are 
two  chieftains  of  a  western  tribe,  wliose  people  tell, 
in  story  and  in  song,  how,  at  a  ci'rlain  sign  of 
danger  to  a  shi)),  they  went  out  over  the  breakers  in 
a  hollow-tree  iiuioc,  to  meet  the  white  "tyee"  of 
the  "  great  canoe,"  and  in  pity  for  the  poverty  of  his 
knowledge  of  sea  line  had  proffered  him  shelter  in  a 
quiet  nook  of  land-locked  ocean,  until  such  time  as 


Hi  ill! 


i!: 


ilH^  !:.;i 


i:h    • 


I!  .  ''^       i' 
l5|     . 


60 


WIGWAM   AND   WAItPATH. 


ik 


the  Great  Spirit  might  give  evidence  of  anger  past, 
by  smiling  on  the  boisterous  waves  that  had  made 
sport  of  man's  puny  elforts  to  control  his  own 
going. 

These  chieftains,  in  dainty  craft,  had  won  the  cap- 
tain's conlideuce,  and,  by  consent  of  favoring  winds 
and  rolling  s(}as,  with  trust  he  follows  past  lone  rocks 
that  stand  above  the  sunken  reef,  and  through  the 
foamy  passage,  guarded  by  "  headlands "  on  either 
side;  past  bars,  unseen,  that  break  huge  rollers  into 
waves  of  shorter  measure;  past,  still  past,  the  homes 
of  fishermen  on  shore,  until  at  last  his  sails  Happed 
approval  on  the  mast,  the  keel  complains  of  unaccus- 
tomed touch,  and  anchors  dropped  in  fathoms  short 
to  the  bed  of  a  bay  that  gives  evidence  of  welcome, 
by  sending  its  sands  to  surface,  speckled  with  mica 
or  sparkling  with  grains  of  gold. 

Thus  the  white  man's  big  canoe  found  rest,  and 
sailors  crowded  the  rail  to  give  signs  of  gratitude 
to  the  strange,  stroiig-arme(l  pilots. 

The  captain  let  down  his  stairs,  that  they  might 
come  on  deck  and  exchange  mutual  feelings  of  each 
heart.  On  the  one  hand,  that  of  thankfulness,  that 
misfortunes  make  mankind  akin,  and  used  such  occa- 
sions to  teach  the  lion  that  the  mouse  may  be  his 
master  when  circumstances  bring  his  ability  into 
demand. 

The  white  man  felt  gratitude,  and  made  proof  of  it 
by  loading  the  red  man's  "  hollow  tree "  Avith  rich 
stores  of  choice  sugars  from  the  islands,  blankets 
made  in  colder  zones;  with  clothing  that  illy  fitted 
the  red  man's  limbs;  with  lines,  and  nets,  and  hooks, 
and  spears  of  foreign  make,  and  with  weapons  of 


{mil  t'tt'< 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


61 


fiery  breath  and  noisy  moutli,  tliat  poorly  mated  tlic 
bow  and  '.rrow,  tliougli  mating  good  by  force  of 
execution  tlie  loss  in  warning  talk. 

The  chieftains,  too,  gave  back,  with  answering 
hand  and  smiling  face,  the  gladness  of  their  hearts  that 
they  had  found  opportunity  to  serve  the  white  man. 

When  they  departed,  the  "  tyee  "  bade  them  come 
again.  This  was  a  great  day  for  the  chieftain's 
household,  when  they  landed  beneath  the  willow  trees 
near  their  e-li-he  (home).  The  women,  with  great, 
wondering  eyes  at  the  sight  of  so  many  ic-tas  (goods), 
began  to  unload  the  "hollow-tree  canoe,"  and,  as 
each  article  new  to  them  came  in  sight,  they  would 
wonder  and  chatter  and  try  them  on,  until  at  last 
they  stood  clothed  in  sailor's  garb,  of  jacket,  pants 
and  shoes.  To  their  camps  they  came,  loaded  with 
the  precious  freights,  and,  coming  to  their  own,  the 
little  ones  would  cry  and  run,  shouting,  "  Ilal-lu-me, 
til-li-cum  "  (strangers)  ;  nor  would  they  trust  to  their 
mothers'  voices  until  they  had  put  aside  their  cos- 
tumes. 

These  chiefs  still  laugh  at  the  surprise  they  felt  at 
sight  of  what  they  supposed  to  be  the  new-found 
friends,  until  the  merry  cluchmen  (women)  shouted, 
" Cla-hoy-em-six,  tyee?"  (How  do  you  do,  chief?) 
They  quickly  rose  from  their  cougar  skin  and  pan- 
ther's pelt,  caught  the  bogus  sailors,  and  quickly 
robbed  them  of  their  borrowed  clothes. 

That  night,  while  the  sun  was  going  to  rest  in  his 
bed  of  flaming  billows,  on  the  ship's  deck  arid  on  the 
sand  of  the  red  man's  floor,  happy  hearts  bade  each 
"  Good-night."  The  white  man  was  happy  now  that 
his  home  was  gently  rocked  by  flowing  tides.     The 


62 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


*   III'!,    .'r 

Bill',     .    l,l||| 


1  >im-\ 


'-ii 


red  men,  happy  with  thoir  lil-H-ciims,  retaihiig  in 
guttural  notes  their  groat  adventures,  *and  dancing 
the  pot-hu'h  dance  (giving  dance),  wouhl  stop,  and 
with  their  hands  divide  the  prizes  won,  without 
thought  of  sliells,  or  Indian  coin,  oi*  wliite  man's 
chick-a-nion  (money).  AVhen  "to-morrow's  sun" 
had  climbed  over  the  craggy  ledges  of  the  coast 
mountain,  and  sent  out  his  fiery  messengers  to  an- 
nounce his  coming,  they  came  to  the  vesseFs  deck, 
nd  fonnd  no  watchman  there.  They  peeped  into  the 
foiecastle  and  cabin,  and  waked  the  slumberers  up  to 
welcome  the  new  morn  begun  on  the  bosom  of  Ya 
Quina  Bay. 

At  the  Indian  lodge,  the  soft  voice  of  cluchman, 
mingling  with  the  murmur  of  rippling  rills,  that  from 
snow-banks  high  on  the  mountain  side  cam.c  hurrying 
down  to  quench  the  thirst  of  sailor  or  of  savage; 
maybe,  the  briny  lips  of  the  sea-monster  or  salmon 
fish,  that  come  in  to  rest  from  surging  waters  and 
bask  awhile  in  the  smooth  currents  of  the  bay. 

The  chiefs  arose  and  made  breakfast  on  foreign  teas 
and  island  sugars,  and  when  in  new  attire,  with 
cluchman  in  beads  and  fine  tattoo  (an  adornment  of 
savage  tribes),  with  noses  pierced  by  long  polished 
shells,  that  made  an  uncouth  imitation  of  a  dandy's 
moustache,  with  pappoose  in  basket  hung  with  bells,  or 
lashed  to  boards  with  wild-deer  thongs,  and  slung  on 
mother's  back,  secured  with  sealskin  belts  worn  on 
the  brow.  To  make  the  whole  a  complete  picture  of 
Indian  life,  the  dogs  were  taken  in,  and  then  sitting 
in  the  prow  to  give  command,  the  "hollow-tree  canoe" 
was  pointed  toward  the  ship.  The  loud  hurrah  of 
sailors,  that  was  intended  to  give  welcome,  was  at 


?  in 
cing 
,  and 
bout 
nan's 
snn  " 
coast 
0  an- 
deck, 
to  the 
up  to 
of  Ya 

ihman, 
it  from 
ivrying 
avage; 
almon 
rs  and 

-•n  teas 
I,   with 
\cnt  of 
^Ushed 
landy's 
lells,  or 
\mg  on 
3rn  on 
lure  of 
[sitting 
-anoe" 
i-ah  of 
ras  at 


WIGWAM    AXD   WAUPATII. 


G3 


fii'st  construed  to  be  a  warnin*^,  and  quick  the  "  hol- 
low-tree canoe"  was  turned  about,  each  paddle  [)lay- 
ing  in  concert  to  carry  the  frightened  visitors  away, 
while  cluchincn  and  maidens,  with  woman's  privilege, 
screamed  in  terror  of  expected  harm. 

The  chief  soothing  them,  and  looking  back  descried 
the  tyee  captain,  with  beckoning  hand  and  signs  re- 
calling him  to  fuini  his  purpose,  and  make  the  visit. 
He  bade  the  oarsman  cease,  and,  while  his  canoe 
moved  on  from  ac(iuired  motion,  though  slower  going, 
while  he  backward  gazed,  he,  with  noiseless  paddle, 
again  l^'ought  the  prow  towards  the  sides  of  the  "big 
canoe." 

Slowly  and  cautiously  he,  with  his  precious  cargo, 
floated  nearer  and  nearer  still,  with  eyes  wide  open,  to 
detect  any  sign  of  treachery,  sometimes  half  stopping 
at  suggestions  of  frightened  mothers  or  timid  maidens, 
and  then  anon  would  forward  move ;  still,  however, 
with  great  caution,  until  at  last  the  two  canoes  were 
rocking  on  the  gentle  tide  in  closest  friendship. 

The  seamen  who  made  this  welcome  port  came  on 
deck,  with  a  sailor's  pride  of  dress,  wide-legged  trow- 
sers,  and  wider  collars  to  their  shirts  over  their 
shoulders  falling,  and  with  wide-topped,  brimless 
caps.  When  the  new-comers  had  passed  their  fright, 
and  the  old  chief  had  climbed  on  deck  to  be  sure  that 
all  was  safe,  he  called  his  family,  and,  though  the 
jolly  tars  went  down  to  assist  them,  they  remained 
waiting  for  some  further  proof  of  friendship. 

"While  their  eyes  were  upw^ard  tui-ned,  and  Jack's 
were  downward  bent,  two  pairs  (at  least)  met  mid- 
way, and  told  the  old,  old  tale  over  again. 

On  deck,  and  leaning  oyer  the  rail,  stood  a  youth- 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  Wt-ifK  M'«  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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M;i 

64 


WIGWA3I  AND  WARPATH. 


fill  sailor,  with  deep,  earnest  eyes.  These  had  met  the 
gaze  of  another,  the  daughter  of  the  pilot  chief. 
Silently  the  arrows  flew;  and,  without  honeyed  word, 
or  war-whoop,  the  battle  went  on,  until,  by  special  in- 
vitation of  looks,  Oneatta  came  aboard,  and  stood 
beside  the  smiling  palc-facc;  and  soon  the  older 
women  follow  -^d  with  the  baby  baskets  until  all  were 
there  except  the  dogs,  who  cried  at  the  partiality 
shown  to  the  master  and  his  family. 

The  scene  on  deck  was  novel.  The  tyee  captain 
and  the  chief  were  teaching  each  other  the  words 
with  which  to  give  token  of  hospitality  and  grat- 
itude ;  half-sign,  half-word  language  'twas,  though, 
in  which  exchanges  of  friendly  sentiments  were 
told. 

The  sailors,  with  the  women  and  maidens,  had 
organized  a  school,  on  a  small  scale.  Merry  laughter 
often  oroke  at  the  clumsy  efforts  of  white  man's 
tongue  to  imitate  Indian  wa-wa  (talk).  The  little 
ones  received  the  touch  of  rough  fingers  on  dimpled 
chin,  and  turned  like  frightened  fawns  away  to  listen 
to  the  tinkling  of  the  little  bells  above  their  heads. 

The  chief  had  brought  with  him  richest  offerings 
of  venison  and  fish ;  the  women,  specimens  of  handi- 
work in  beads  and  necklaces,  which  they  ofiered  in 
exchange  for  such  articles  of  bright-hued  colors  as 
the  sailors  might  have  bought  in  other  lands. 

The  bargains  were  quickly  made,  each  side  proud 
of  success  in  securing  something  to  remind  them  of 
the  visit. 

The  chief  signified  his  intention  to  return  to  his 
home  on  the  beach,  when  the  good  captain,  not  to  be 
outdone  in  matters  of  courtesy,  brought  fresh  supplies 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


C5 


of  various  kinds,  and  had  them  stowed  away  in  the 
"  hollow-tree  canoe." 

When  the  parting  came,  to  prove  his  good  will,  the 
tyee  captain  promised  to  return  the  visit.  Oneatta 
had  said  to  Theodore,  the  sailor,  "  Come ; "  and  he,  with 
eyes  doing  service  for  his  lips,  had  made  promise. 
The  red  chief  and  his  family  withdrew,  and  soon  they 
were  riding  the  laughing  waves  in  the  "  hollow-tree 


j> 


canoe 

Thus  the  day  had  passed  and  joined  the  happy  ones 
gone  before  it;  and  bells  had  called  the  sailors  to  the 
deck,  and  the  Indian  chief  reposed  his  limbs  on  the 
uncut  swath  of  willow  grass,  and  waited  for  the  ap- 
proach of  night,  that  he  might,  by  signal  fires,  call 
his  kinsmen  to  the  pil-pil  dance;  a  dance  in  honor 
of  each  Indian  maiden  when  she  "  comes  out." 

Oneatta  had  demanded  of  her  parents  this  honor, 
and,  since  custom  allowed  this  privilege,  she  on  that 
day  reached  an  era  in  her  life,  when  she  chose  to  bo 
no  longei"  a  child. 

Her  father,  the  chief,  wondered  at  this  sudden 
change  of  manner  wrought,  but,  yielding  to  his  doating 
c'lild,  gave  his  assent.  The  picture  I  am  making  now 
is  true  to  the  life  of  many  a  maiden,  who  may  follow 
Oneatta's  history,  whose  faces  take  their  hue  of  colors 
that  give  token  of  their  race. 

Some  of  them  may  recall  their  "  coming  out " 
'neath  dazzling  chandeliers,  on  carpets  of  finest  grain, 
in  dresses  trailing  long,  in  which  they  stepped  with 
timid  gait  to  softest  music,  of  silver, lyre,  or  flute,  or 
many-voiced  piano. 

But  Oneatta's  parlor  was  lighted  up  with  glittering 
stars,  that  had  done  service  long,  and  brighter  grew 


66 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


'  (■»■■ 


to  eyes  of  each  new  belle,  who  had,  from  tune  to 
time,  lent  first  a  listening  ear  to  soft-voiced  swain. 

The  carpets  were  brightest  green,  and  sanded  by 
waves  stranded  on  the  beach  at  the  flowing  of  the 
tide. 

The  music  was  grandly  wild,  a  combination  of  the 
hoarse  drum,  or  angry  roar  of  sea-lions,  mingling 
with  the  deep  bass  voice  of  waves,  breaking  on  the 
rocks,  while,  soft  and  low,  the  human  notes  came  in 
to  make  the  harmony  complete  to  cars  long  trained 
to  nature's  tunes. 

The  maiden,  whose  heart  was  now  tumultuous  as  the 
scenes  around  her,  had  dressed  with  greatest  care  in 
skirts  of  scarlet  cloth,  embroidered  with  beads  and 
trimmed  with  furs  of  seal  and  down  of  swan.  Her 
arms,  half  bared,  were  circled  with  bands  of  metals ;  her 
neck,  with  hoofs  of  fawns,  or  talons  of  the  mountain 
eagle;  pendent  from  her  ears,  rattles  of  the  spotted 
snake ;  the  partition  of  her  nose  held  fast  a  beautiful 
shell  of  slender  mould;  her  cheeks,  rosy  with  vermil- 
ion paints;  while  in  her  raven  hair  she  wore  a  gift 
from  her  pale-faced  lover,  brought  from  some  far-off 
shore,  intended  for  some  other  than  she  who  wore  it 
now.  It  was  but  a  tinsel,  yet  it  fitted  well  to  crown 
her  whose  eyes  were  dancing  long  before  her  beaded 
slippers  had  touched  time  upon  the  sanded  floor. 

The  circular  altar,  built  of  pebbles  of  varied  colors, 
■was  lighted  up  with  choicest  knots  of  pine  from 
fallen  trees. 

The  watch  on  board  the  "  big  canoe  "  was  set,  and 
down  its  swinging  stairway  the  tyee  captain,  mate, 
and  sailors  descended  to  the  waiting  boat ;  then 
softly  touched  the  oars  to  smiling  waves,  and  steady 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


67 


arms  kept  time  to  seamen's  song  in  stern  and  bow, 
guided,  meanwhile,  by  the  altar  fire.  Over  the  glassy 
bridge  they  flew,  and  touched  the  bank  beside  the 
"  hollow-tree  canoe." 

With  hearty  hand  the  chieftains  bade  them  wel- 
come, and  gave  silent  signal  for  the  dance  to  begin, 
while  the  tyee  captain  ar  "<  his  men  took  station  at 
respectftil  space.  The  dancers  came,  and,  forming 
round  the  maiden's  altar  fires,  awaited  still  for  her  to 
come  from  lodge. 

The  pale-faces,  lighted  up  with  blaze  from  knotty 
wood,  with  folded  arms  and  curious  wonder  stood 
gazing  on  the  scene. 

One  among  the  number  had  scanned  the  merry 
ch'cle  of  bashful  Indian  boys  and  timid  girls;  his  face 
bespoke  vexation  at  his  disappointment,  for  he  had 
failed  to  catch  the  eye  of  Oneatta. 

She  came,  at  length,  tripping  toward  the  festive 
throng,  and  spoke  to  him  ere  the  dance  began,  not 
by  smile,  or  deed,  or  word,  but  in  Cupid's  own 
appointed  way,  that  never  lies.  He,  as  every  other 
swain  can  do,  read  it  in  her  eyes,  and  made  ansTvar 
in  ways  that  do  not  make  mistake. 

When  thd  circle  had  closed  round  the  altar,  thu 
song  of  gladness  broke  forth  from  he  lips  of  the 
tattooed  and  painted  red  chins,  and  from  the  drum  of 
hoarser  sound,  and  then  the  happy  dancers,  without 
waiting  for  partners,  went  with  lithesome  step  in  gay 
procession  round.  Louder  rang  the  music,  quicker 
grew  the  steps,  each  time  round,  the  little  invisible 
nrrows  flew  from  sailor-boy  to  Indian  maiden,  and 
from  maiden  to  sailor-boy ;  glancing  each  against  the 
other,  would  rustle  and   then 


go 


straight 


to  target 


68 


WIGWAM  AND  WARrATII. 


sent,  until  at  last  the  maiden  tired  grew,  her  bosom 
overladened  with  the  arrows  Cupid's  quiver  had 
supplied.  She  bade  the  dancers  stop,  and  with  native 
grace,  and  stately  step,  she  stood  beside  her  lover 
without  a  thought  of  wrong;  for  she  was  Nature's 
child,  and  had  not  felt  the  thongs  of  fashion's  code, 
"which  forbid  her  to  be  honest. 

Her  tiny  hand  was  pressed  between  the  hard  palms 
of  the  captive  sailor,  for  he  had  been  fighting  a  battle 
where  each  is  conquered  only  to  be  a  conqueror. 

Oneatta  led  the  sai!or-boy  to  join  those  who,  with 
wondering  eyes,  had  waited  for  her  return.  He  took 
his  place  beside  his  tutor  now,  to  learn  how  a  step 
unused  by  tamer  people  might  make  speech  for  joy 
and  gladness. 

The  dance  was  ended.  Pale  faces,  and  red  ones, 
too,  had  lost  sight  of  the  stars,  and  were  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  rocking  tides  or  muffled  song  of  rippling 
waters,  or  by  the  breakers  beating  the  rocky  shores 
of  Ya-quina. 

Day  followed  day,  and  each  had  a  history  con- 
necting it  with  its  yesterday  and  prophesying  for  the 
morrow.  The  sailor-boy  went  not  on  duty  now,  for 
his  "chummies"  stood  his  watch.  He  spent  much 
time  at  the  e-li-he  of  the  tyee  chief,  or  with  Oneatta 
went  out  in  a  small  canoe  to  watch  the  fishermen 
spear  the  fattened  salmon. 

Sometimes  they  rambled  on  the  mountain  side 
beneath  the  mansinetta  trees,  and  exchanged  lessons 
in  worded  language.  He  told  her  of  his  home,  where 
cities  and  towns  were  like  the  forest  of  her  native 
home;  of  people  who  outnumbered  the  stars  above, 
and  of  bright-colored  goods,  of  beautiful  beads  and 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH.  ^^ 

ttL:1al1rt^«-»h.  consent  to  go 

a"  for  the  sakT^t  red^T^  """  ^'«^'' 
give.  •  promised  happiness  he  could 

The  sailor  made  confidpnf  r.^  u- 

i»g  pictures  painted  of  hLr.r''''P'*™' ™''^'°^- 

would  do  witi  her  then    o  T"''!'""*  '^'""  ^^ 
came.  ^°  *°  '"«  mother's  home  he 

The  honest  captain  foDiul  ..k.-    •• 
carrying  her  away,  andTe^t  fo ''"  t""  '"  ""^  ?'«  °f 
they  called  the  eh  eftl  2  7    ^r"  '^°'"> "  (for  so 
stand  how  the  y<mTZT^''f  "^de  him  under- 

The  face  of  Tye'f /oZ' ^.tw  S::  TT"^- 
was  impatient  to  be  gone     but  l    f,    ^'-^t' ""d  he 
presents  hinted  at  bron^hrw     T      "'"•>'  '^^"'''^  »■><• 
Vosea  that  the  sailo  -L  sWM  T""'"'-    '""  ^''>- 

T.!^:rrr  sxsr  c'"  '^^  --  - 

n.ot'Ketho„td™:tr "'  -<«  P---a  of 
'''e^io.  Of  the  Indian  :Z'^::aZfZ\r'' '" 

;^etyee  cap^tain  "mtdT  L^H  Is  S  r'-^ '^^^' 
the  bomiding  waves.    Onentt.  hi ,    J^    °  "'^"^  ^^"^ 
rowing  mothers,  sisters  brrth     '""^.^f'"•«weII  to  sor- 
*»  t.=ep  until  h^r  comi  J    o^^'r/.'-''^'' '^  token 
tnow  not  what  yon  do"    y„      t   '*  °""''«''-'  Jou 
of  your  fairer  silters  ^hoT  "  ""  ""^  '"'""  ^^'""Ple 
of  foreign  lips.    We'pl  '!       *"  ""=  ^"""^  ""^^ 
nepityyouaswedothera.    You 


70 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


,1   •■'< 


m,  .■ 


11  ■'.' ' 


i    :' 


have  not  thought  how  strange  will  be  the  customs, 
manners  and  life  of  those  with  whom  you  are  to 
mingle.  A  time  may  come  when  you  will  long  for 
the  caresses  of  your  rude  mother,  to  hear  the  merry 
shouts  of  brothers,  to  gaze  into  the  face  of  your  dark- 
eyed  father;  perhaps  long  to  hear  love  in  native  ac- 
cents spoken  by  the  young  brave  who  has  given  you 
choicest  gems  of  ocean's  strand  and  mountain  cliflfs. 

"We  see  you  yet  when  your  kinsmen  tell  of  you  in 
song,  or  story,  your  dark  eyes  brimming  with  tears  of 
hope  and  sorrow  mingled. 

You  reach  the  side  of  the  "  big  canoe."  "We  see 
the  brave  and  manly  sailor-boy,  who  hastened  to 
catch  your  trembling  hand,  and  help  you  up  the 
swinging  steps,  and  when  on  deck  you  stand,  we  see 
the  sailor's  chums,  from  the  ship-yards  above,  gaze 
down  on  you  and  him,  with  glances  half  of  envy,  and 
half  of  pleased  surprise. 

And  now  we  see  you  startle  at  the  fierce  command 
of  the  mate,  to  heave  the  anchor  up,  then  their 
response  drawn  out  in  lengthened  "Aye-aye,  sir,'* 
and  singing,  while  they  work,  the  seamen's  song;  and 
how  wide  your  dark  eyes  open  at  sight  of  whitened 
sails,  outspreading  like  some  monster  swan,  and  the 
troubled,  anxious  look  you  give  to  the  humble  e-li-he 
of  childhood,  as  it  passed  away,  as  if  moving  in 
itself,  and  the  headlands  that  seem  floating  towards 
you,  and  the  great  water  that  came  rushing  to  meet 
you. 

We  see,  too,  your  father,  Tyee  John,  in  his  "  hollow- 
tree  canoe,"  leading  the  way,  and  pointing  to  some 
sunken  rock,  or  shallow  bar,  or  hidden  reef,  until  he 
rounds  to  in  proof  of  danger  past  to  the  "  big  canoe." 


US, 

to 
for 
;rry 
irk- 

ac- 
you 
fs. 

►uin 
rsof 

3  see 
id  to 
)  the 
1Q  see 
gaze 
^,  and 

imand 
their 
sir," 
;  and 
ttened 
id  the 
-li-he 
Ing  in 
Iwards 
meet 

lollow- 

some 

itil  he 


lauoe 


j> 


i;  m. 


ttH 


yii  >n 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


78 


How  its  huge  white  wings  fold  up  at  a  signal  from 
the  tyee  captain!  And  then  your  father  comes  on 
board,  and  stands  in  mute  attention  to  the  ceremonies 
of  seamen's  ♦marriage  law.  And  you,  in  innocence, 
give  heed  to  word  or  sign  until  you  are  bound  in  law 
to  the  fortunes  and  freaks  of  a  roving  sailor-boy. 

When  Tyee  John  turns  away,  hiding  his  teai's  in 
his  heart,  while  yours  run  down  your  cheeks,  we  see 
him  reach  his  canoe,  and  you  hanging  over  the  sides 
of  the  ship  to  catch  a  last  glance  of  his  eye. 

And  then  the  white  wings  are  spread  again,  and 
soon  he  grows  so  small  that  his  paddle  seems  but  a 
dark  feather  in  his  hand,  and  your  old  home  recedes, 
and  you  have  caught  the  last  glimpse  you  ever  will, 
of  the  mountain  sinking  in  the  sea,  and  you,  alone, 
—  no,  not  alone,  foi-  your  sailor-boy  is  with  you,  now 
drying  the  tears  from  your  dusky  cheeks. 

Oneatta,  we  leave  you,  with  a  prayer  that  your  life 
may  not  be  as  rough  as  the  seas  that  drove  the  "big 
canoo  "  into  Quina  bay.  "Whether  your  hopes  have 
blossomed  into  fruition,  or  have  been  blasted,  we 
know  not,  nor  if  you  still  live  to  be  loved  or  loathed. 
We  only  know  that  your  silver-haired  sire  sits  on 
the  stony  cliff,  overlooking  the  mouth  of  the  harbor, 
and  watches  passing  sails,  or  hastens  to  meet  those 
that  anchor,  and  repeat  the  old  question  over  and 
over,  Me-si-ka,  is-cum,  ni-ka-hi-ak-close,  ten-as- 
cliichman,  Oneatta?  (Have  you  brought  back  my 
beautiful  daughter,  Oneatta?) 

When  Cupid  comes  with  pale-faced  warric  ! "»  the 
dusky  maiden  now,  they  repeat  the  warning  tale,  with 
!Ni-ka-cum-tux  Oneatta.    (I  remember  Oneatta.) 


CHAPTER    VI. 


SENATORIAL  BRAINS  BRATKN  DY  SAVAGE   MUSCLE 
ANT  WAY  OF  P.-YINO  PENALTIES. 


■  FLEAS. 


I'- 
1  *  .I'l 


':  liUfi 


TiiE  story  I  have  related  is  but  one  of  the  many 
that  belong  to  this  region,  and  for  the  tinith  of  which, 
witnesses  still  live,  both  whites  and  Indians;  anothe.* 
reason  I  introduce  it  here  is  f^  show  my  readers  who 
may  think  otherv^^ise,  that  Indians  —  savage  as  they 
are  at  times,  often  made  savage  by  their  religion — have 
liearts.  Again  and  again  shall  I  refer  in  this  work 
to  the  red  mriu's  emotional  nature,  and  to  his  religion. 
I  cannot  do  so  too  often,  as  the  reader  will  admit 
before  he  turns  the  last  leaf. 

This  agency  is  located  west  of  the  coast  range  of 
mountains,  and  bordering  on  the  Pacific  Ocean.  The 
valleys  are  small,  irregular  in  shape,  fertile  and  pro- 
ductive, with  prairies  interspersed  with  forests  of  fir; 
picturesque  almost  beyond  description.  At  some 
points  the  mountains  reach  out  into  the  ocean,  form- 
ing high  headlands  whereon  are  built  light-houses, 
to  guard  mariners  against  the  dangers  of  the  coast. 
Long  white  sandy  beaches  stretch  away  for  miles,  and 
are  then  cut  ofi"  by  craggy  bluffs. 

At  the  southern  boundary  of  Siletz  —  two  miles 
from  the  line  —  may  be  found  a  beautiful  bay,  navi- 
gable inland  for  thirty  miles.  The  banks  are  varied  in 
altitude;  undulating  hills,  with  rich  alluvial  bottom 
lands  intervening.     The   greatest  width  of  bay  is 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


75 


perhaps  four  miles,  and  occasionally  cut  into  channels 
by  beautiful  islands  narrowing  inland  to  receive  the 
small  river  Ya-quina.  Midway  between  the  mouth  of 
the  river  and  the  ocean  entrance  to  the  bay,  extensive 
oyster-beds  exist. 

This  "  Chesapeake  "  of  the  Pacific  was  once  a  part 
of  Siletz  reservatii)n.  The  discovery  of  the  oyster- 
beds,  and  also  of  the  numerous  forests  of  timber 
accessible  to  navigation,  attracted  the  attention  of 
the  white  men;  and  the  old,  old  story  was  again 
rehearsed,  —  "T/(c  white  men  wanted  them.'''' 

That  it  was  wanted  by  the  white  men  was  su^lcient, 
and  no  a^nbitious  candidate  for  Legislature  or  Con- 
gressional honors  dare  oppose  the  violation  of  a 
solemn  compact  between  the  United  States  Govern- 
ment and  the  Indians,  who  had  accepted  this  <jountry 
in  compensation  for  their  homes  in  Umpyua  and 
Rogue  river  valley.  It  was  cut  off,  and  given  to  com- 
merce and  agriculture  in  1866. 

That  an  equivalent  was  ever  made  to  the  Indian 
does  not  appear  from  any  records  to  which  I  have  had 
access.  It  is,  however,  asserted,  that  a  small  sum  was 
invested  in  stock  cattle,  for  the  benefit  of  Siletz 
Indians.  There  are  two  approaches  to  Siletz  from 
the  valley  of  Willamette ;  the  principal,  via  Ya- 
quina  river  and  bay;  the  other,  over  the  mountain 
by  trail.  My  first  visit  was  by  the  former.  In  Sep- 
tember, 1869,  .  in  company  with  Hon.  Geo.  H. 
Williams,  then  U.  S.  Senator,  now  Attorney  General 
of  the  United  States,  Judge  Odeneal,  since  my 
successor  in  office,  and  other  citizens,  we  reached  the 
head  of  navigation  late  on  the  evening  of  the  12th. 
We  remained  over  night  at "  Elk  Horn  Hotel."    The 


76 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


it'll: 


following  morning,  in  the  absence  of  steamer, 
we  took  passage  in  small  row-boats,  propelled  by 
Indians. 

The  adventures  of  the  day  were  few,  only  one  of 
which  I  shall  refer  to  now.  Our  U.  S.  Senator,  who 
had  done  much  for  reconstruction  in  the  Senate,  chal- 
lenged one  of  our  Indians  for  a  trial  of  muscle  at  the 
oars.  The  challenge  was  accepted,  and  senatorial 
broadcloth  was  laid  aside,  and  brain  and  muscle  put 
to  the  test.  After  a  short  race  the  prow  of  our  boat 
ran  into  the  bank  on  the  side  where  brains  was  at 
work.  For  once  at  least,  muscle  proved  more  than  a 
match  for  brains,  and,  besides,  an  Indian  had  won  a 
victory  over  a  great  tyee.  Now  although  our  sen- 
ator had  proven  himself  a  match  for  other  great 
senators  in  dignified  debate,  he  was  compelled  to 
listen  to  the  cheers  of  our  party  in  honor  of  a  red 
man's  triumph  over  him.  I  doubt  if  those  who  of 
late  defeated  him,  when  a  candidate  for  the  highest 
seat  in  our  halls  of  justice,  felt  half  the  gratification 
that  "  To-toot-na-Jack  "  did  that  morning  when  the 
tyee  dropped  the  oar,  exhausted  and  disgusted  with 
his  failure  to  hold  even  hand  with  a  red  brother,  who 
was  not  a  senator. 

After  a  row  of  twenty  miles,  we  landed  within  a  half 
hour's  ride  of  Siletz.  The  agent,  Mr.  Simpson,  met 
our  party  with  saddle-horses. 

While  en  route  a  horse-race  was  proposed  ;  the 
dignified  gentleman  turning  jockey  for  the  nonce. 
In  fact,  the  entire  party  engaged  in  a  run.  The  road 
passed  over  low  hills,  covered  with  thnber  and  tall 
ferns.  "While  the  Congressional  and  Indian  Depart- 
ments were  going  at  a  fearful  speed,  a  representative 


lit  ly 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


77 


of  the  latter  went  over  his  horse's  head,  and  soon  felt 
the  weight  of  the  United  States  Senate  crushing  the 
Indian  Department  almost  to  death. 

The  parties  referred  to  will  recognize  the  picture. 

This  was  not  the  first  time,  or  the  last  either,  that 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States  has  "  been  down  on 
the  Indian  Department." 

Without  serious  damage,  both  were  again  mounted, 
and  soon  were  fording  Siletz  river,  —  a  deep,  narrow 
stream,  whose  bed  was  full  of  holes,  —  slight  "  irreg- 
ularities," as  defaulters  would  say. 

We  crossed  in  safety,  except  that  one  horse  carried 
his  rider  into  water  too  deep  for  wading.  It  matters 
not  who  the  ric.  'r  was,  or  whether  he  belonged  to 
Congress  or  the  Indian  Department. 

On  reaching  the  prairie  a  sight  presented  itself, 
that  gives  emphatic  denial  to  the  oft-repeated  dec- 
laration, that  Indians  cannot  be  civilized. 

Spread  out  before  us  was  a  scene  that  Avords  cannot 
portray.  The  agency  building  occupied  a  plateau, 
twenty  feet  above  the  level  of  the  valley.  They  were 
half  hidden  by  the  remnants  of  a  high  stockade  that 
had  been  erected  when  the  Ind  ians  were  first  brought 
on  to  the  agency  fresh  fi'om  the  E,ogue-rive»*  war. 
At  that  time  a  small  garrison  was  thought  neces- 
sary to  prevent  rebellion  among  the  Indians,  and  to 
secure  the  safety  of  the  officers  of  the  Indian  Depart- 
ment. 

It  was,  doubtless,  good  judgment,  under  the 
circumstances.  Here  were  the  remnants  of  fourteen 
different  tribes  and  bands,  who  had  been  at  war  with 
white  men  and  each  other,  and  who,  though  sub- 
jugated, had  not  been  thoroughly  "  reconstructed.^^ 


78 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


They  were  located  in  the  valley,  within  sight  of 
the  agency,  and  were  living  in  little  huts  and  shanties 
that  had  been  built  by  the  Government. 

Each  tribe  had  been  allotted  houses  separated  from 
the  others  but  a  few  hundred  yards  at  farthest. 
They  drew  their  supplies  from  the  same  storehouse, 
used  the  same  teams  and  tools,  and  were  in  constant 
contact.  They  had  come  here  at  the  conmiand  of  the 
United  States  Government,  in  chains,  bearing  with 
them  the  trophies  of  war;  some  of  them  being  fair- 
haired  scalp-locks,  and  others  were  off  red  men's 
heads.  Think  for  a  moment  of  enemies  meeting  and 
wearing  these  evidences  of  former  enmity  ;  shaking 
hands  while  each  was  in  possession  of  the  scalp-locks 
of  father  or  brother  of  the  others  I 

But,  at  the  time  of  the  visit  referred  to,  no  sen- 
tinel walked  his  rounds.  No  bayonet  flashed  in  the 
sunshine  on  the  watch-tower  of  the  stockade  at 
Siletz.  The  granaries  and  barns  were  unbarred;  even 
Agent  Simpson's  own  quarters  were  unlocked  day  and 
night.  Fire-arms  and  tools  were  unguarded;  Indians 
came  and  went  at  will,  except  that  Agent  Simpson 
had  so  taught  them  that  they  never  entered  without  a 
preliminary  knock.  The  Indian  men  came  not  with 
heads  covered,  but  in  respectful  observance  of  cere- 
mony. 

The  kitchen  work  and  house-keeping  were  done  by 
Indian  women,  under  the  direction  of  a  white  matron. 
The  agent's  table  afforded  the  best  of  viands.  Tell 
the  world  that  Indians  cannot  be  civilized  I  Here 
were  the  survivors  of  many  battles,  who,  but  a 
few  short  years  since,  had  been  brought  under 
guard,  some  of  them  loaded  with  chains,  and  with 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


79 


tit  of 
anties 

Lfrom 
'thest. 
house, 
nstant 
of  the 
2:  with 
g  fair- 
.  men's 
ng  and 
jhaking 
[p-locks 

no  sen- 
l  in  the 
tadc    at 
id;  even 
day  and 
Indians 
Simpson 
ithout  a 
aot  with 
of  cere- 
done  by 
matron. 
Is.    Tell 
i\    Here 
but  a 
It   under 
Ind  with 


blood  on  their  hands,  who  were  living  as  I  have 
described. 

Sometimes,  it  is  true,  the  remembrance  of  former 
feuds  would  arouse  the  sleeping  fires  of  hatred  and 
desire  for  revenge  amongst  themselves,  and  fights 
would  ensue.  But  no  white  man  has  ever  been  in- 
jured by  these  people  while  on  the  Reservation,  since 
their  location  at  Siletz. 

This  statement  is  made  in  justice  to  the  Indians 
themselves,  and  in  honor  of  those  who  had  control 
of  them,  both  of  whom  merit  the  compliment. 
Amongst  thesv-;  people  were  Indian  desperadoeSy  who 
had  exulted  vi  the  bloody  deeds  they  had  committed. 
One  especially,  braver  than  the  rest, named  Euchre  Bill, 
boasted  that  he  had  eaten  the  heart  of  one  white  man. 

This  he  did  in  presence  of  Agent  Simpson,  during 
an  efibrt  of  the  latter  to  quell  a  broil.  The  agent, 
always  equal  to  emergencies,  replied,  by  knocking  the 
fellow  down,  handcuffing  him,  and  shutting  him  up  in 
the  guard-house,  and  feeding  him  on  bread  and  water 
for  several  days,  after  which  time  he  was  released, 
with  the  warning  that,  the  next  time  he  repeated  the 
hellish  boast,  he  would  "  not  need  handcufis,  nor  bread 
and  water."  Bill  understood  the  hint.  The  agent 
remarked  to  us  that  "  Bill  was  one  of  his  main 
dependants  in  preserving  order." 

During  our  visit  we  went  with  the  agent  to  see 
Euchre  Bill.  He  was  hewing  logs.  On  our  approach 
he  dropped  the  axe,  and  saluted  the  agent  with  "  Good- 
morning,  Mr.  Simpson,"  at  the  same  time  extending 
his  hand.  When  informed  of  the  personality  of  our 
party,  Bill  waved  his  hat,  and  made  a  slight  bow, 
repeating  the  name  of  each  in  turn. 


80 


WIGWAM   AND  WAUPATH. 


I''  I 


i\  i 


We  looked  in  on  the  school  then  in  progress;  we 
found  twenty-five  children  in  attendance.     They  gave 
proof  of  their  ability  to  use  the  English  language,  and 
understand  its  power  to  express  ideas;  the  lessons 
v^ere  all  in  pi'imary  books.     Their  recitations  were 
remarkable.      Outside  of  books  they  had   been  in- 
structed in  practical  knowledge,  and  answered  readily 
in  concert  to  the  questions.  Who  is  President  of  the 
United  States?    What  city  is  the  capital?     Who  is 
Governor  of  Oregon?    Where  is  the  capital  located? 
Who  is  Superintendent  of  Indian  Afiairs?  What  year 
is  this?   How  many  months  in  a  year?   When  did  the 
count  of  years  begin?     Who  was  Jesus  Christ?   And 
many  other  questions  were  asked  and  readily  answered. 
The  boys  were  named  George  Washington,  Dan  Web- 
ster, Abe  Lincoln,  James  Kesmith,  Grant,  Sherman, 
Sheridan,  —  each  answering  to  a  big  name.     "Dan 
Webster  "  delivered  in  passable  style  an  extract  from 
his  great  prototype's  reply  to  Hayne.   The  school  also 
joined  the  teacher  in  singing  several  Sunday-school 
hymns,  and  popular  songs.   Short  speeches  were  made 
by  visitors  and  teachers.     We  were  much  encouraged 
by  what  we  saw,  and  left  that  school-house  with  the 
belief  that  Indian  children  can  learn   as   readily  as 
others  when  an  opportunity  is  given  them.     I  have  not 
changed  my  conviction  since;  much  of  its  prosperity 
was  due  to  the  teacher,  William   Shipley,  who  was 
fitted  for  the  work  and  gave  his  time  to  it.    We  also 
called  at  sorue  of  the  little  settlements.     The  agency 
farm  was  tilled  in  common;  notwithstanding  we  saw 
many  small  gardens  around  the  Indian  houses,  grow- 
ing vegetables,  and  in  one  or  more  "  tame  Jlowers." 
At  one  place  several  men  were  at  work  on  a  new 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


81 


house,  some  of  them  shingling,  others  clinking  cracks. 
One  man  was  hewing  out,  with  a  conunon  axe,  a  soft 
kind  of  stone  for  a  fire-place. 

We  entered  the  house  of  "  Too-toot-na  Jack,"  the 
champion  oarsman.  He  welcomed  his  vanquished  rival 
in  the  boat-race  above  referred  to,  and  his  friend,  and 
ojQfered  one  an  arm-chair,  and  stools  to  the  remainder. 
His  wife  came  in,  and  Jack  said,  "  This  is  my  woman, 
Too-toot-na  Jinney.  She  is  no  fool  either.  She  has 
a  cooking-stove  in  the  kitchen."  Jinney  was  much 
older  than  her  husband;  but  that  was  not  unusual. 
She  was  a  thrifty  housewife,  and  was  a  financier,  — 
had  saved  nearly  one  thousand  silver  half-dollars; 
and  what  she  lacked  in  personal  charms,  on  account 
of  tattooed  chin  and  gray  hairs,  she  made  up,  like 
many  a  fairer  woman,  in  the  size  of  the  buckskin 
purse  Avherein  she  kept  her  coin.  Jack  seemed  fully 
to  appreciate  the  good  qualities  of  his  "woman;"  not 
because  he  had  access  to  her  fortune,  but  because  she 
was  old  and  lie  was  young,  and  the  chances  were  that 
he  would  be  at  her  funeral. 

That  hope  has  made  many  a  better  fellow  than 
Too-toot-na  behave  with  becoming  reverence  for  his 
wife.  But  "  many  a  slip  'twixt  cup  and  lip  "  applies 
to  all  kinds  of  people.  Jack  never  realized  on  Ms 
inve^L..<,ent.  He  went  first,  and  Jinney  is  now  a 
rich  widow,  and  has  no  doubt  marriage  offers  in 
abundance. 

AVe  were  present  on  "  court  day,"  the  agent  hold- 
ing it  for  the  adjustment  of  all  kinds  of  difficulties 
among  his  people.  In  such  cases  he  appoints  juries 
from  among  the  bystanders,  always  taking  care  to 
select  such  as  had  no  tribal  affinities  with  the  parties 


82 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


'. 


to  the  suit.  He  had  a  sheriff  in  every  tribe,  and  on 
occasions  where  their  own  friends  were  interested  he 
summoned  other>s  to  act.  He  himself  was  the  court 
and  high  sherijf,  and  always  sat  with  a  large  hickory 
cane,  called  "  Old  Moderator." 

My  readers  may  smile  at  this  kind  of  a  gavel;  but 
it  was  a  practical  and  useful  thing  to  have  in  such 
courts,  —  much  more  potential  than  Blackstone  or  any 
other  kind  of  commentaries,  unless,  indeed,  it  be  the 
last  revised  edition  of  Samuel  Qolt. 

The  records  of  that  court  were  sometimes  made  on 
untanned  parchment;  by  which  I  mean,  my  poor, 
unsophisticated  reader,  that  these  Indian  citizens  would 
sometimes  forget  very  willingly  to  observe  the  decorum 
due  before  that  august  tribunal,  and  fall  to  making  a 
record  for  themselves  and  on  one  another  with  fists, 
clubs,  whips,  knives,  pistols,  and  other  lively  weapons, 
until  the  good  Judge  Simpson  completed  that  record 
by  a  vigorous  application  of  the  aforesaid  hickory 
club,  and  some  of  the  citizens  had  editions  for  per- 
sonal adornment. 

The  walls  of  the  court-room  had  transcript  frag- 
ments done  in  carmine,  —  or,  to  be  better  understood, 
in  "claret."  Court  day  had  been  announced  to  the 
visitors  while  at  breakfast.  The  senator  had  been  a 
successful  lawyer  before  entering  the  polif*  ?al  arena; 
the  judge  was  then  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  lucrative 
practice;  the  superintendent  had  done  something  in 
the  law  line  in  county  courts  before  justices  of  the 
peace. 

The  court-room  was  crowded,  the  doorways  and 
windows  were  occupied,  and  black  shining  eyes  were 
glistening  through  every  crack,  all  anxious  to  see  and 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH.  ^ 

hear.     These  people    of  <5:i^f 

imitators,  and  mo'e  Vadilvt!  -''^'T"^'  ""^'^  "P* 
frivolities  of  civlli^atLt'^':"  :;"'";  '"'!  ^'^^  »<> 
proprieties.  *'"'  "«  virtues  and 

Of  ?h:.r:™X  ::r;rd"'''  ^^^^'-'  -^-^ 

found  in  any  eourt-  oom    "wol"''  -"ntenance  ever 
ing  law.    Perhaps,  thev'  bJ  ''"''  """•"'  •^''™- 

-uffod  the  purer'ai  .SeiTar-''''''  '"'"'"^'^■>- 
over  our  beautiful  eountr;  and  b  •  If  tT""/"  ""''^ 
demagogues  who  now  rul  wi/i.    1  ^'"''^^  of 

better  portion  of  the  peopt'  '■'?P'-^«^«fe-»i?,  the 

*-^fttrt;;;::rrr°'-''-"'^-vith 

them,  reader.   They  nevr  had  ,       ^^    ^""''  '^'"'•« 

'oo.dng  rorwrto'i^;L^-:^r^^^^^^^^^^  ^-^^i?  -™ 

good  as  a  ne^ro    if  thp,. ,   I  -^""^^^^  will  be  as 

-  <=ye  to  po,L;,  IdTeett;  a^ff"''"-  .  ^''^^  ^ 
people  were  all  there  exeent  1^  ""'■  ^"  ''"ot,  the 
ones.  ^^""P'  oamp-watchers  and  sick 

toSTthelSt"  aT"'  ^^   "Mod-ator" 

These  Indians  are  fold  of  "  .""'"'"'• 
'-    and    new-that"'        s  ?  !■;' ^"""^  *-"> 
■"ea's-were  somewhat  mLd   '      it    "  ""'^  ^''''^ 
"•atter  to  execute  justice  uniformi"       A  '""  "  '''®''-"" 
hemg  a  practical  man  had  nn^  ^'  .^''"'  ^™P^on. 
white  men's  law  any  fetter  ?t  '""f '"*  '°  ^"'"""^  «>« 
hended  it.  ^  ""'"'^  ">«"  'he  Indian  con.pre- 

The    Indian    lawvers    too,.= 

'-« »••«'«  Sir. s- 


84 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


i.ti. 


■<-    >i 


V'  Ki 


battery.  The  court  and  the  visitors  had  been  partial 
witness  of  the  little  fight,  which  occurred  the  day 
previous  to  the  trial,  on  the  "  Plaza,"  in  front  of  the 
agent's  head-quarters.  The  contestants  were  clutch- 
men  (women) ;  the  cause  of  war,  the  only  thing  that 
women  ever  fight  about,  —  a  man. 

The  statement  in  court  was  to  the  effect  that  one 
woman  had  stolen  another  woman's  husband.  The 
parties  were  arraigned,  the  statement  made  concern- 
ing the  case,  and  the  matter  compromised  by  sending 
both  parties  to  the  "Sku  Kum"  House  (Guard 
House) . 

The  next  case  called  was  that  of  a  man  charged 
with  unlawfully  using  a  horse  belonging  to  some  one 
else.  The  accused  was  ordered  to  pay  for  the  offence 
about  wh;  t  the  real  service  of  the  animal  was  worth; 
no  damages  were  allowed.  The  thu*d  case  was  some- 
what similar  to  the  first. 

One  of  Joshua's  people  —  name  of  a  tribe  — 
claimed  damage  for  insulted  honor,  and  destruction 
of  his  domestic  happiness. 

A  Rogue-river  Indian  had,  very  much  after  the 
fashions  of  civilized  life,  by  presents  and  petty  talk, 
persuaded  the  wife  of  the  aforesaid  warrior  to  elope 
with  him.  The  old  history  of  poor  human  nature 
had  been  repeated.  The  villain  deserted  his  victim, 
and  she  returned  to  her  home.  Her  husband,  with 
observing  eyes  discovered  more  ic-tas  (goods)  in  the 
woman's  possession  than  could  be  accounted  for  on 
honorable  grounds,  and  demanded  an  explanation. 
She  made  "  a  clean  breast,"  and  agreed  to  go  into 
court  with  her  husband  and  claim  damages,  not 
divorce  ;    for  I  have  before  remarked  that  Indians 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


85 


were  eminently  practical.  The  husband  demanded 
satisfaction.  The  accused,  whose  name  was  "  Chetco 
Dandy,"  would  have  accorded  him  the  privilege  of  a 
fight;  but  that  was  not  the  satisfaction  demanded. 
The  husband  had  made  his  ultimatum.  Ttuo  horses 
would  settle  the  unpleasantness.  Chetco,  however, 
owned  but  one.  The  court  decided  that  he  should 
make  ten  hundred  rails,  and  deliver  the  horse  to  the 
injured  husband,  with  the  understanding  that  the 
latter  was  to  hoard  him  while  doing  the  work. 

I  can't  resist  a  query  :  how  long  a  white  man, 
under  such  arrangements,  would  require  to  make  ten 
hundred  rails.  The  husband  was  satisfied,  his  honor 
was  vindicated,  and  he  owned  another  horse.  After 
the  docket  was  cleared,  a  council  talk  was  had. 

These  people  had  been  placed  here  by  the  Govern- 
ment, in  1856,  numbering  then,  according  to  Superin- 
tendent l^esmith's  report  for  1857,  2,049  souls,  repre- 
senting fourteen  bands ;  and  although,  in  1869,  they 
numbered  little  more  than  half  as  many,  they  kept 
up  tribal  relations,  at  least  so  far  as  chieftainship  was 
concerned.  In  the  council  that  day  one  or  two  of 
the  chiefs  represented  tribes  in  bands  of  ten  or  twenty 
persons ;  and  one  poor  fellow,  the  last  of  his  people, 
stood  alone  without  constituency.  He  was  a  chief, 
nevertheless. 

I  cannot  report  here  the  reflection  that  such  a 
circumstance  suggests,  —  only  that  he,  with  the  usual 
solemn  face  of  an  Indian  in  council,  seemed  the  per- 
sonification of  loneliness.  ' 

The  speeches  made  by  these  people  evinced  more 
sense  than  their  appearance  indicated.  They  were 
dependent  on  the  Government,  and  felt  their  helpless- 


^•1  ;>!! 


86 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


Ell  iji', 


li! 


ness.  "When  the  usual  speeches  had  been  made  pre- 
liminary to  business  talk,  I  said  to  them  that  I  was 
gratified  at  the  advancement  they  had  made,  consider- 
ing the  circumstances,  and  that  I  was  willing  for 
them  to  express  their  wishes  in  regard  to  the  expendi- 
ture of  money  in  their  interest. 

They  were  loth  to  speak  on  this  matter,  because 
they  had  never  been  consulted,  and  a  recognition  of 
their  manhood  was  more  than  they  had  expected. 
After  some  deliberation,  during  which  they,  like  bash- 
ful boys,  asked  one  another,  each  nudging  his  neigh- 
bor to  speak  first,  old  Joshua  at  last  arose,  half-hesi- 
tatingly,  and  said,  "Maby,  I  don't  understand  you. 
Do  you  mean  that  we  may  say  what  we  want  bought 
for  us?  N^obody  ever  said  that  before,  and  it  seems 
strange  to  me." 

I  had  consulted  the  agent  before  making  this  ex- 
periment, and  he  had  doubted  the  propriety;  not 
because  he  was  unwilling  to  recognize  their  manhood 
in  the  premises,  but  he  feared  they  would  betray 
weakness  for  useless  articles,  and  thereby  bring  de- 
rision on  his  efforts  to  civilize  them.  Perhaps  it 
might  establish  a  precedent  that  would  be  trouble- 
some sometimes. 

He  exhibited  great  anxiety  when  Old  Joshua  rose, 
lest  he  would  disgrace  his  people  by  asking  for  beads, 
paint,  and  powder,  and  lead,  and  scarlet  cloth.  I  can 
see  that  agent  yet,  with  his  deep-set  eyes  fixed  on  the 
speaker,  while  he  rested  his  chin  on  his  cane.  Old 
Joshua  spoke  again,  and,  though  he  was  considered  a 
"  terrible  brave  on  the  warpath,"  and  had  passed  the 
better  portion  of  his  life  in  that  way,  now  when,  for 
the  fii'st  time  in  his  life,  he  was  called  upon  to  give 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATn. 


87 


opinions  on  a  serious  matter,  concerning  the  invest- 
ment of  money  for  his  people,  he  appeared  to  be 
transformed  into  a  man.  He  was  a  man.  Hear  him 
talfi¥— 

**!  am  old;  I  can't  live  long-.  I  want  my  people  to 
put  away  the  old  law  (meaning  the  old  order  of 
things).  I  want  them  to  learn  how  to  work  like 
white  men.  They  cannot  be  Indians  any  longer.  AVe 
have  had  some  things  bought  for  us  that  did  us  no 
good,  —  some  blankets  that  I  could  poke  my  finger 
through;  some  hoes  that  broke  like  a  stick.  We 
don't  want  these  things.  We  want  j^lougJis,  harness, 
chick-chick  (wago7is),  axes,  good  hoes,  a  few  blankets 
for  the  old  people.  These  we  want.  We  have  been 
promised  these  things.     They  have  not  come." 

The  agent's  face  relaxed;  his  eyes  changed  to 
pleased  suriDrise.  Other  chiefs  si3oke  also,  but  after 
the  pattern  that  Joshua  had  made,  except  that  some 
of  them  complained  more,  and  named  a  former  agent, 
who  came  poor  and  went  away  rich.  No  Indian  sug- 
gested an  unwise  investment.  We  assured  them  that 
they  should  have  the  tools  and  other  goods  asked  for; 
and  that  promise  was  Tcept,  much  to  the  gratification 
of  the  Indians  and  agent. 

I  have  not  the  abstract  at  hand,  but  I  think  I  pur- 
chased for  them  soon  after  $1,200  worth  of  tools  and 
twenty  sets  of  harness,  and  that  a  few  blankets  were 
issued. 

But,  :;o  resume  the  council  proceedings.  These  people 
were  clamorous  for  allotments  of  land  in  severalty. 
Their  arguments  were  logical,  they  referring  to  the 
promises  of  the  Government  to  give  each  man  a 
home.      The  land  has  been  surveyed,  ard,.if  not 


88 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


<;;';■  i 


m 


allotted  to  them,  I  do  not  know  why  it  has  not  been 
done. 

The  subject  of  religion  was  discussed  at  some 
length.  The  agent,  willing  to  advance  "  his  people," 
had  given  them  lessons  in  the  first  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity, lie  had  taught  them  the  observance  of 
Sunday,  had  Ibi'bidden  drinking,  gambling,  and  pro- 
fanity. He  invited  ministers  to  preach  to  them,  and, 
when  necessary,  had  been  their  interpreter.  There 
were  several  languages  represented  in  the  council; 
the  major  portion  of  the  Indians  understood  the 
jargon,  or  "  Chi-nook,"  a  language  composed  of  less 
than  one  hundred  words;  partly  Indian,  Spanish, 
French,  and  "  Boston."  The  iatter  word  is  in  com- 
mon use  among  the  tribes  of  Oregon  and  Washington 
Territory  to  represent  white  men  or  American. 

The  Christian  churches  have  enjoyed  the  privilege 
of  ministry  to  these  people  since  they  were  first 
located  on  the  Reservation. 

The  Catholic  priests,  who  had  baptized  some  of 
these  people,  were  very  zealous.  Occasionally,  the 
Methodist  itinerant  called  and  preached  to  them. 
The  labors  of  neither  were  productive  of  much  good, 
because  they  did  not  preach  with  simplicity,  and  could 
not,  therefore,  preach  with  power.  It  would  be  about 
as  sensible  for  a  Chinaman  to  preach  to  Christians, 
as  for  the  latter  to  preach  to  Indians  in  high-flown 
words,  abstruse  doctrines,  or  abstract  dogmas.  One 
case  will  illustrate. 

A  very  devout  man  of  God  visited  the  agency, 
with,  I  doubt,  not  good  intentions.  Pie  preached  to 
these  people  just  as  he  would  have  done  to  white  men. 
He  talked  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour  of  the  world; 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


89 


besought  thorn  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come;  that 
Jesus  Christ  was  the  Suviour  of  the  red  men  as  well 
as  white  men;  that  he  had  died  for  the  sins  of  the 
world ;  that  he  rose  again  the  third  day  and  ascended 
into  heaven. 

The  discourse  was  interpreted  to  the  Indians  by  an 
employe  on  the  Reservation.  A  few  days  after,  a 
Si-wash,  the  usual  word  for  Indian,  who  answered  to 
the  name  of  Push-wash,  entered  into  conversation 
with  the  above-named  employ(5,  by  saying,  "  What 
you  think  about  that  Sunday-man's  talk,  —  you  think 
him  fool?"  —  "No;  he  is  a  good  man;  he  has  plenty 
of  sense."  —  "What  for  he  swear  all  time?"  —  "He 
did  not  swear;  he  talked  straight." 

"What  for  he  say  Jesus  Christ  so  many  times? 
All  the  time  he  talk  the  same." 

"That  was  all  right;  he  told  the  truth;  he  did 
not  talk  wrong." 

"You  think  me  fool?  Wliat  for  a  good  man  die 
for  me?  I  am  not  a  bad  man.  I  did  not  tell  him  to 
die." 

"  The  Jews  killed  him,  they  did  not  like  him." 

"You  say  Jews  kill  good  man?  " 

"  Yes,  they  kill  him,  and  he  come  to  life  again  on 
the  third  day." 

"You  think  he  came  to  life?  I  don't  believe  they 
kill  him.     He  not  live  anv  more." 

"Yes;  everybody  will  live  again  some  time." 

"  You  suppose  a  bad  Indian  get  up,  walk  'bout 
again,  all  the  same  a  good  man?  " 

"  They  will  all  rise,  but  they  won't  all  be  good." 

"What  for  the  Sunday  man  tell  that?  He  say 
Jesus  Christ  die  for  bad  Indian  too?    Say  he  go  to 


90 


WIGWAM   AND   WAKPATH. 


f  V  'Ml  'i 


Jm 


heaven  all  the  same  as  a  good  Indian,  good  white 
man;  that  aint  fair  thing.     I  don't  no  like  such  rchg- 


lon 


5) 


A  few  days  afterwards  the  man  who  reported  this 
dialogue  passed  near  the  grave  of  an  Indian,  and 
found  it  covered  with  stones  and  logs.  He  learned 
afterwards,  that  Piish-Avash  had  explained  to  other  In- 
dians the  meaning  of  the  "  Sunday-man's  talk,"  and 
they  had  piled  stones  and  logs  on  the  graves  of  their 
enemies,  to  pi'cvent  them  rising  from  the  dead. 

The  reader  will  thus  appreciate  the  necessity  for 
sending  ministers  who  are  qualified  to  preach  to  these 
people;  otherwise  they  may  do  the  savage  more  harm 
than  good.  Farther  on  in  the  work  I  shall  discuss 
more  fully  this  most  important  of  all  questions,  with 
special  reference  to  the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  treat- 
ing with  the  Indians,  in  consequence  of  their  numer- 
ous and  peculiar  religious  beliefs,  which  few  white 
men  know  anything  about. 

I  left  Siletz  with  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  people, 
and  the  prospects  before  them.  JS^otwithstanding  the 
many  impediments  in  the  way  of  their  civilization, 
the  transformation  from  a  wild  savage  to  a  semi-civ- 
ilized life  had  been  wrought  in  fourteen  years. 

In  this  connection  I  submit  the  last  annual  report 
of  Hon.  Ben.  Simpson,*  late  United  States  Indian 
agent  at  Siletz.  I  do  so,  because  whatever  of  progress 
these  people  may  have  made  was  under  his  adminis- 
tration as  Indian  agent,  and  believing  the  short  his- 
tory presented  by  him  will  be  of  interest  to  my 
readers. 


*  Sec  Appendix. 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


91 


I  white 
h  relig- 

ted  this 
an,  and 

learned 
other  In- 
Jk,"  and 

of  their 

d. 

jssity  for 

II  to  these 
lore  harm 
11  discuss 
lOns,  with 
y  of  treat- 
sir  numer- 
;ew  white 

le  people, 
Ending  the 
ivilization, 
semi-civ- 

L*S. 

Lial  report 
les  Indian 
|f  progress 
adminis- 
Ishort  his- 
^st  to  my 


He  is  a  gentleman  of  unimpeachable  integrity, 
though  blessed  with  enemies  whose  assaults  have  pol- 
ished his  character  hke  a  diamond.  Whatever  vices 
these  Indians  may  have  exhibited  to  his  successor,  — 
Gen.  Palmer,  —  they  were  not  the  results  of  Mr.  Simp- 
son's management,  or  example ;  but  rather  the  natural 
consequences  of  association  with  profligate  soldiers 
and  other  white  *  men,  during  the  first  years  of  their 
residence  on  the  Reservation. 

Gen.  Joel  Palmer  was  recommended  as  Mr.  Simp- 
son's successor  by  the  Methodist  Church.  He  went 
to  his  duty  with  long  experience,  and  in  many  re- 
spects well  fitted  for  the  work. 

Scarcely  had  he  assumed  the  duties  of  his  office, 
with  a  new  set  of  employes,  before  he  was  made  to 
realize  that  poor  human  natuic  will  in  most  cases 
control  human  action.  Ingratitude  is  said,  by  Indian 
haters,  tu  be  characteristic  of  those  people.  Better  be 
honest  and  say  it  of  mankind. 

I  have  said  that  he  selected  a  new  set  of  officers. 
Among  them  was  one  chosen  on  account  of  his  relig- 
ious habits,  —  habits,  I  say,  not  character,  —  who  had 
lent  a  listening  ear  to  the  call,  "  Go  preach  my  Gospel 
to  all  nations."  This  man  answered  this  urgent  call, 
and  Agent  Palmer  employed  liim.  Xo  sooner  had  he 
unfurled  the  banner  of  Christianity  among  tli^'^e  peo- 
ple, than  he  began  in  a  clandestine  way  to  undermine 
Agent  Palmer.  Unfortunately  for  the  agent,  this 
preacher  had  been  recommended  by  the  same  church 
for  position.  This  gave  him  influence.  He  made  use 
of  it.  He  proposed  to  other  ofticers  of  the  agency 
that  if  they  would  assist  in  ousting  Palmer  he  would 
retain  them  in  their  respective  positions. 


1     i 
I 


92 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


'«!  ;;?    -^    •• 


To  consummate  this  act  of  religions  villany,  he 
circulated  reports  against  the  man,  whose  kindness 
fed  him  and  his  family,  that  he  (Palmer)  had  men  in 
his  employ  who  were  "  not,  strictly  speaking,  Chris- 
tians j  that  he  was  not  competent  to  discharge  the 
duties  of  his  office."  The  agent  found,  what  nearly 
every  officer  haa  learned  sooner  or  later,  that  his  posi- 
tion was  of  doubtful  tenure,  and  felt  the  sting  of  this 
man's  treachery  so  severely  that  he  proposed  to 
resign. 


"  Brother 


is  determined  to  oust  me,    and  I 


reckon  I  will  let  liLn  have  the  position.  He  wants  it, 
and  I  don't  care  to  worry  my  life  out  fighting  for  an 
Indian  agency." 

This  is  the  substance  of  the  speech  Agent  Palmer 
made  to  me  as  superintendent.  I  said  to  him,  "  Do 
no  such  thing.  Go  back  to  yom*  agency  and  tell 
that  man  to  roll  his  blankets  and  be  off,  or  you  will 
put  him  in  irons.  Then  discharge  every  accomplice 
he  has,  and  select  good,  true  men  instead." 

Brother  Palmer  replied  that  "the  church  recom- 
mended Brother ,  and  I  don't  like  to  do  such  a 


thino" 


5> 


„.      I  prevailed  on   him  to  withdraw  his  resig- 
nation; and  on   his   return  to   Siletz,  he  discharged 

Brother .     But  the  war  was  continued  against 

demanded   a  successor  to 


him  until  Agent  Palmer 


a   short  administration   he 
christianized    the     Siletz 


relieve  him ;  and  after 
rtiired  without  havin; 
Indians. 

I  have  mentioned  this  episode  for  the  reason  that  I 
desire  full  justice  done  a  r^.an  who  meant  well,  with  a 
sincere  hope  that  those  having  the  appointing  power 
may  be  made  to  reflect  a  moment  before  maldng 


-/"^ 


WIGWAM  AND  WAftPATH. 


98 


nominations  for  office  in  deference  to  the  demands  of 
any  church,  and  without  regard  to  the  fitness  of  the 
appointee. 

I  have  due  respect  for  church  members,  and  recog- 
nize the  necessity  of  having  men  of  moral  character 
among  the  wards  of  this  Government. 

Gen.  Palmer,  with  his  long  experience,  was,  in  many 
respects,  qualified  for  his  position;  but  he  was  a  jDoor 
judge  of  character.  I  may  be  censured  for  making 
these  comments,  but  they  are  just,  nevertheless;  as 
was  the   opinion  I  gave   of  the  aforesaid   Brother 

,  when  his  name  was  proposed  as  a  missionary  to 

the  Siletz  Indians,  by  the  presiding  elder  of  the 
district. 

I  answered  him,  "  That  man's  face  says  he  would 
undermine  his  father,  to  forward  his  own  interests." 

The  elder  said  in  reply,  "  Brother  Meacham,  you 
must  be  mistaken ;  he  is  a  good,  Christian  man,  and 
will  be  a  great  help  to  Brother  Palmer."  In  courtesy 
to  the  presiding  elder,  I  consented,  with  the  remark, 
"  Try  him;  but  he  will  make  a  thorny  bed  for  Brother 
Palmer." 

Here  is  the  history.  It  is  not  written  to  bring  ridi- 
cule on  the  church  nominating  him. 

Siletz  agency  has  been  established  fourteen  years, 
during  which  time  five  agents  have  represented  the 
Government.  Some  of  them  have  been  good  men  for 
the  position. 

Although  these  Indians  are  not  up  to  the  standard 
of  moral  character,  or,  church  requirements,  a  great 
change  has  been  wrought,  and  credit  should  be  given 
to  v/hom  it  is  due. 

Uncouth  these  Indians  on  Siletz  may  be,  but  let 


fli 


94 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


ii  m 


m:.u.':i: 


:ni' 


i  m 


truth  speak  for  them,  and  you  will  hear  of  how  they 
came  to  this  new  home  captives,  and  in  chains,  under 
guard  of  bayonets,  borne  on  shoulders  of  men 
wearing  the  uniform  of  the  U.  S.  A. 

You  will  hear  how  thco  men  were  stationed  among 
them  to  guard  them,  and  compel  obedience  to  the 
mandates  of  a  Government  that  pernii^^ted  the  grossest 
outrages  on  their  rights,  and  made  no  effort  to  redress 
their  wrongs. 

You  would  hear,  too,  of  a  people  living  in  careless 
indolence  on  Umpyua  and  Rogue  rivers,  in  southern 
Oregon,  when  disturbed  by  the  advent  of  white  men, 
who  came  with  prejudices  against  them,  who  disre- 
garded their  rights,  denied  them  the  privilege  of  living 
on  the  land  God  had  given  them,  who  failed  to 
protect  them  from  the  outrages  committed  by  vicious 
white  men;  of  the  indiscriminate  warfare  that  was 
carried  on  against  them  for  resenting  such  insults; 
of  their  native  land  left  in  ruins,  where  the  wail  of 
weeping  pale-faces  over  slain  friends  mingled  with 
their  own  lamentations  on  taking  leave  of  the  homes 
of  their  earliest  life. 

Tmth  would  tell  of  the  many  crimes  committed  by 
and  against  them,  since  their  residence  at  Siletz ;  of 
how  they  have  been  punished  for  their  own  misdeeds, 
and  have  seen  those  who  sinned  against  them  go 
unpunished. 

Be  patient,  you  half-savage  people  I  Death  is 
rapidly  healing  your  wounds  and  curing  your  griefs. 
Those  who  survive  may,  in  time,  be  given  homes. 
The  lands  have  been  surveyed  for  these  people,  but 
have  not  yet  been  allotted.  Nothing  could  do  more  to 
revive  them  than  the  consummation  of  this  promise. 


0? 


WIGWAM   AND  AVARPATH. 


95 


Some  of  them  have  lived  with  white  men  as  labor- 
ers, and  have  learned  many  things  qualifying  them 
for  this  great  boon.  Surely  a  magnanimous  Govern- 
ment will  compl^^te  this  great  act  of  justice  to  a 
helpless  people.     May  God  speed  the  day  I 

AL8EA   AGENCY. 

It  is  located  on  the  coast  Reservation  south  of  Ya- 
quina  bay.  The  people  are  "  salt  chuck,"  or  salt- 
water Indians,  and  the  majority  of  them  vfcre  born  on 
the  lands  they  now  occupy ;  hence  they  arc  the  moat 
quiet  and  well-behaved  Indians  in  Oregon. 

They  are  easily  controlled,  and  are  making  prog- 
ress in  civilization.  But  few  in  number,  and  of  the 
character  I  have  named,  they  have  never  taken  part 
in  any  of  the  many  wai's  that  have  made  Oregon  "  the 
battle-ground  of  the  Pacific  coast." 

A  sub-agency  was  established  over  them  in  1866. 
The  pay  of  sub-agent  is  $1,000  per  annum,  without 
subsistence  or  other  allowance.  The  Alsea  people 
being  non-treaty  Indians,  —  that  is  to  say,  they  have  no 
existing  treaty  with  the  Government;  no  funds  being 
appropriated  especially  for  them,  —  they  are  sustained 
entirely  from  the  "Incidental  Funds"  for  Oregon 
Superintendency. 

The  fact  that  the  Alsea  Indians  have  always  been 
easily  managed  has  been  to  their  disadvantage  in 
securing  Government  aid.  Had  they  been  more  re- 
fractory, they  would  have  been  better  treated.  This 
sounds  strangely,  and  yet  I  declare  it  to  be  true.  Why 
should  Government  reward  them  for  being  peaceable? 
They  have  asked  for  buildings ;  the  Government  gave 
them  huts.    They  asked  for  schools  and  churches;  but 


M 


96 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


'*:.  %.   ! 


lie;    :■■    ■■■;.i 


,  ,1 


ii: 


ll'Hi  It 


i(ii 


,'''  li 


l.'V 


no  school-house  stands  out  in  the  bleak  ocean  winds 
of  their  home;  no  church-bell  calls  them  to  hear  the 
wonderful  story  of  a  Saviour's  love.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  wealth  of  their  successors  peals  forth  in  loud 
strains  which  echo  on  foreign  shores,  no  hammer 
rings  out  its  cheering  notes  on  anvil  of  theirs. 

This  little  agency  demonstrates  the  fact,  that  the 
only  sure  way  for  Indians  to  secure  attention  is  through 
hlood.  Our  Government  follows  the  example  of  the 
father  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  with  this  remarkable  dif- 
ference, that  it  abuses  its  dutiful  children,  while  it 
fawns  upon  and  encourages  the  red-faced  reprobates, 
by  rewarding  them  for  their  rebellious  deeds. 

The  department  farm  at  Alsea  was  made  by  Gov- 
ernment, on  Indian  land,  ostensibly  for  the  Indians' 
benefit.  It  is  located  on  a  bleak  plain,  that  stretches 
away  from  the  ocean  surf  to  the  foot  of  the  coast 
range  mountains.  It  produces  potatoes  and  oats. 
The  mountains  are  high  and  rugged,  and  covered 
with  dense  forests  of  fir  and  cedar  timber;  much  of 
the  former  has  been  "  burnt."  A  heavy  ttndergrowth 
has  become  almost  impenetrable  except  for  wild  ani- 
mals or  Indian  hunters. 

The  cedar  groves  cover  streams  of  water  that  will  in 
time  be  of  great  value,  when  turned  on  to  machinery 
with  which  to  convert  the  cedars  into  merchandise  for 
foreign  markets.  The  streams  are  plentifully  supplied 
with  fish.  No  long  list  of  employes  answer  to  the 
command  of  an  agent  at  Alsea.  In  some  respects  it 
is  the  better  way,  inasmuch  as  it  is  to  the  interest  of 
the  agent  to  teach  his  wards  the  more  common  arts 
of  handiwork.  In  this  way,  the  improvements  have 
been  made  by  Indian  lal^or,  under  the  direction  of  an 


WIOWAM  AND  WAKPiTH 

97 

agent;  and  now,  while  I  write  th»= 

mg  .lowly  up  towards  the^l  t''!  ^^'^  "■•«  «om- 
then^awaytothebrotherlotd;  "^  ;^-«  open  to 

Efforts  ai-e  beins  mnrfn  ♦        , 
Eeservation,  and,  !h™,d  1 1'"^'"'"  *"  '"•'^''  of  the 
who  have  cost  the  Govlm!n,'"T'^'  ^^^^  P^^Ple 
t-asure,  will  be  com,XdTo  ''n  ""''  °^  """d  «r 
'Might  versus  Eight"    it'    ^?''''  ""'^  repeating, 

fonof  the  hmits^of  the  eo"     n  '"'""''  '"  '•'^'^- 
People,  who  have  already  ^Z  f^'"'^''"'"''  'f  these 
«0"ntry,  shall   be  provided    vifh^ '",  "'?"'  '"'="'"'■"■ 
^hops,  and  other  means  Xrbv  tl'°°'''  '•'"'™''-' 
Pensated,  and,  i„  the  moart.W  ^^     '^  ""^  '^'^  <^°'«- 
fon  for  the  new  life  that   ''     ;  ^T""^  ^^  ^-'"'i^a- 
«  fe-  yeara  hence    ,n  I  be  t^^  "'™™'-^'  ">«, 
people.  '  ""^  ''O  left  to  represent  their 

The  Government  owes  to  ti.       >. 
I  have  suggested,  a„H  1..^    """^'^  ^"''''">«  «" 
out  and  allotted  in  sevlTtvlr".'  "  ''°™  ""^''''ed 
or  two  generations.  ^'  '""'"^  '"alienable  for  one 

^ut,  however  deservm«.  +u 
f  they  ever  enjoy  tX^n^f  ""^  "'^'  ■'  '^  ""'"'tful 
ber,  peaceable   „  dis,?I°"  ^'^.^'-''^e-  Pew  i„  „„„. 
-^y  bloody  deeds,  thT^tbimi!'""""  '°  *«  -« 
"an  will  encroach  o,fth eir    '   '  "'"  *"'  "'''  ^^te 
*™e,  until  at  last,  hlme^  i    "I    '  "  '"^  '»"««  «  a 
-""ot  enjoy,  thjy  ^ntl^^  "  "^"'-"o"  they 
becomingmore  licentious  "anrf^™'^  and  mingle, 
'"'.'th  vicious  white  men  a^^''.''"'™P'  bji  assoeia^on 

wJ'  be  known  only  bTTf-  "  ''"'""'""  "'^ '^" 
"f'der,  gipsy-like,  through  V"^"""""''  ^""^  "'" 
-".serable  fag-end  of  a  race  ''"'""■^'   "  ?"»■•, 

^-I'aps  a  few  .ay  take  humble  positions  as  labor. 


98 


WIGWAM   AND   WAIIPATH. 


a 


i?'  i-t 


ers,  and  attain  to  a  half-way  station  between  savage 
and  civilized  life.  Another  few  will  become  slaves  to 
King  Alcohol,  and  their  chief  men,  lying  around 
whiskey  mills,  drunken,  debauched,  despised,  will 
drop  back  again  to  mother  earth,  mingling  with  the 
soil  their  fathers  once  owned. 

Thus  the  people  of  Alsea  will  pass  away.  I  pity  you, 
humble,  red-skinned  children  of  the  Pacific  surf  I  You 
were  happy  once,  and  carelessly  rode  in  your  canoes 
over  the  shining  sands  of  your  native  beach,  or  chased 
the  game  on  the  mountain  side,  little  dreaming  of  the 
coming  of  a  human  tide  which  would  swallow  you 
and  your  sea-washed  home,  or  carry  both  away  out 
on  the  boundless  expanse  of  a  civilization  whose 
other  shores  you  could  not  see  had  sepulchres  ready 
for  your  bones.  You  have  spent  your  lives  with  your 
feet  beating  the  paths  your  fathers  made  centuries 
ago ;  but  your  children  shall  follow  newer  trails,  that 
lead  to  more  dangerous  jungles  than  those  trod  by 
your  ancestors.  Strange  demons  they  will  meet,  be- 
fore whom  they  will  fall  to  rise  no  more. 

Your  fathers  watched  the  shadows  of  Alsea  moun- 
tain moving  slowly  up  its  western  front,  making  huge 
pictures  on  its  sides,  and  gazed  without  fear  on  the 
sun  dropping  under  the  sea,  wondering  how  it  found 
its  way  under  the  great  ocean  and  high  mountains,  to 
come  again  with  so  much  regularity;  or  perhaps 
they  believed,  as  others  do,  that  the  Great  Spirit  sent 
a  new  "  fire-ball  "  each  day,  and  nightly  quenched  it 
in  the  sea.  You  now  see  the  shadows  climb  the 
mountain,  fitting  emblem  of  the  white  man's  presence 
in  your  land,  and  read  in  the  setting  sun  the  history 
of  your  race.    Better  that  you  had  never  heard  the 


WiaWAM   AND   MAUPATH. 


Bweet  sounds  of  civilized  life  than  that  you,  with  feet 
untrained,  should  follow  its  allurements  to  your  de- 
struction. 

You,  that  once  gave  to  the  beautiful  mountain 
streams  smile  for  smile,  are  now  haggard  and  worn, 
giving  only  grim  presages  of  your  doom. 

Others  of  your  race  have  avenged  their  ill-fortunes 
with  the  tomahawk,  and,  in  coiiipliance  with  their 
religion,  have  rejected  offers  of  a  better  life  than 
they  knew.  But  you  —  you  have  yielded  without 
war,  and,  like  helpless  orphans  thrown  on  the  cold 
world,  have  accepted  the  mites  given  grudgingly  by 
your  masters,  who  treat  with  contempt  and  ridicule 
your  cherished  faith,  who  misconstrue  your  peaceful 
lives  into  cowardice.  They  have  fixed  their  eyes  on 
your  home.  They  will  make  Alsea  river  transform 
the  forest  on  its  banks  into  houses,  towns,  and  cities. 
They  will  make  the  valley  where  you  now  follow  the 
government  plough,  to  yield  rich  harvests  of  grain,  and 
they  will  convert  the  ocean  beach  into  a  fountain  of 
golden  treasure.  A  few  years  more,  and  the  noise  of 
machinery  will  wake  you  early  from  your  slumbers. 
The  roar  of  ocean's  breakers  will  mingle  with  the 
hum  of  busy  life  in  which  you  may  have  no  part. 
The  white  man's  eyes  will  dance  with  gladness  at  the 
sight  of  your  mountains  dismantled  of  their  forests, 
and  the  glimmer  of  coming  sails  to  bear  away  the 
lofty  pines.  Yours  will  weep  at  the  sacrilege  done  to 
your  hunting  grounds;  theirs  will  gaze  on  the  wide 
Pacific,  and  see  there  the  channels  that  will  bring 
compensation  to  them  for  the  spoils  of  your  home. 
Yours  will  recognize  it  only  as  the  resting-place 
for  the  bones  of  your  people.     The  white  man  says, 


100 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


"  Your  fate  ia  fixed,  —  your  doomed  is  sealed."  Few 
hearts  beat  with  sympathy  for  you ;  you  are  unknown 
and  unnoticed.  You  must  pass  away,  unless,  indeed, 
the  white  race  shall,  from  the  full  surfeit  of  vengeance 
upon  you  and  yours,  at  last  return  to  you  a  measure 
of  justice. 

He  who  dares  appeal  in  yoiir  behalf  is  derided  by 
his  fellows.  A  proud,  boastful  people,  who  claim  that 
human  actions  should  be  directed  by  high  motives 
and  pure  principles,  treat  with  contempt  every  effort 
made  to  save  you  from  destruction.  Strong  may  be 
the  heart  of  the  Indian  Chief  to  resist  the  encroach- 
ments on  his  people's  rights,  but  stronger  still  the  aim 
of  a  Government  that  boasts  rebellion  against  oppres- 
sion as  its  foundation  striie. 


CHAPTEK    VII. 

PHIL  SHERIDAN'S  OLD  HOME  — WHAT  A  CABIN  COST. 
GRAND    ROUND    INDIAN   AQENCY. 

I  MADE  my  first  oflicial  visit  to  this  agency  in  the 
latter  part  of  September,  1869.  Captain  Charles 
La  Follette  was  then  acting  agent. 

The  road  from  Salem  was  over  a  beautiful  country, 
settled  by  white  men,  who  had  transformed  this  once 
wild  region  into  a  pai-adise.  The  first  view  of  the 
agency  proper  was  from  a  high  ridge  several  miles 
distant  On  the  right  and  left  were  clustered  the 
houses  of  the  several  tribes,  each  one  having  been 
assigned  a  location.  Their  houses  were  built  of  logs 
or  boards,  and  rudely  put  together.  Every  board  had 
cost  these  poor  people  an  acre  of  land;  every  log 
counted  for  so  much  money  given  in  compensation 
for  their  birthrights  to  the  soil  of  the  matchless  valley 
of  the  "Willamette. 

As  we  stood  on  the  dividing  ridge  separating  this 
agency  from  the  great  valley  I  have  mentioned,  look- 
ing toward  the  west,  we  beheld,  nearest  on  the  left, 
old  Fort  Yamhill,  with  its  snowy  cottages,  built  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  officers  of  the  army  in  the 
days  when  the  gallant  Sheridan  was  a  lieutenant,  and 
walked  its  parade-grounds  with  a  simple  sword 
dangling  by  his  side  and  bars  on  his  shoulder,  hold- 
ing beneath  his  military  cap  a  brain  power  waiting 
for  the  sound  of  clanking  chains  and  thundering 
cannon  to  call  him  henco  to  deeds  of  valor  that  should    . 

173409 


108 


WIGWAM   AND   WAIIPATII. 


n 


compel  the  liiiirel  wreutli  of  Itimc  to  seek  his  brow, 
little  thinking  then,  while  guarding  savages,  that, 
away  off  in  the  future,  his  charger  would  impatiently 
call  him  from  repose,  and  bear  him  into  the  face  of  a 
victorious  enemy  with  so  much  gallantry  that  he 
would  turn  an  apj)arent  defeat  into  a  glorious  victory. 

Immediately  on  our  right  were  the  huts  of  the 
people  for  whose  especial  intimidation  the  costly 
palaces  and  beautiful  cottages  had  been  built.  The 
huts  or  houses  were  built  on  the  hillside  sloping 
toward  the  valley.  They  presented  the  appearance 
of  a  small,  dilapidated  inland  town  that  had  been  "cut 
off"  by  a  railroad;  but  they  were  peoi:)led  with  In- 
dians who  were  trying  to  imitate  their  masters. 

Farther  away  on  the  left  was  another  little  group 
of  houses,  occupied  by  the  chief  of  the  Santiams  and 
his  people.  The  sight  of  this  man's  home  recalled  a 
part  of  his  own  history,  suggestive  of  romance,  wild, 
it  is  true,  but  real,  nevertheless. 

Many  years  ago,  this  chief  was  a  young  warrior, 
and  his  people  were  at  ]:>eace  with  the  white  race, 
and  were  not  then  "  wards  of  the  Government,"  but 
were  living  on  their  native  hills,  in  the  vicinity  of 
Mount  Jefferson,  standing  sentinel  over  the  snowy 
peaks  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  on  v/hose  sides  were 
sitting,  like  great  urns,  clear,  cold  lake  •,  sending  forth 
little  streamlets,  murmuring  and  whispering,  and 
sometimes  leaping,  like  boys  going  home  from  play, 
joining  other  merry,  laughing  streamlets,  rushing 
madly  along  through  forests  of  firs  and  sugar-pines, 
whose  dropping  cones  startled  the  wild  game  from 
their  repose. 

'Twas  here  this  young  warrior's  home  was  nestled, 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


103 


and 

lay, 

ling 
|nes, 
L'om 

lied, 


beneath  the  outstretched  arms  ol'  giant  cedars,  or 
sheltered  by  some  quiet  nook  or  cove.  Hci-e  he  had 
learned  the  arts  of  his  own  people,  and  passed  the 
winters  by,  until  alone  he  could  chase  the  fawns  or 
climb  the  mountain-peak,  and  gather  trophies  with 
which  to  ornament  his  neck  or  fill  his  quiver. 

A  pale-face  man  from  distant  Missouri  had  come  to 
this  far  country  to  escape  the  familiar  sounds  of 
civilization,  where  he  might  imitate  the  Indian  in  his 
freedom  and  his  pleasures.  He  brought  with  him  his 
family,  and  l)uilt  his  cabin  near  a  fountain,  to  which 
medicine  men  would  sometimes  come  or  send  their 
patients  for  recovery. 

This  white  man  had  a  son,  with  down  just  cropping 
on  his  chin,  who,  "  chip  of  the  old  block,"  as  he  was, 
seemed  half  Indian  already,  and,  Ibnd  of  wild  sports, 
soon  made  the  acquaintance  of  young  Santiam.  The 
friendship  grew,  and  the  rivalry  of  archer  and  gunner 
often  drew  them  into  dispute.   Still  they  were  friends. 

The  archer  claimed  that  he  could  creep,  and  noise- 
lessly shoot  from  cover,  without  giving  alarm,  until 
his  quiver  should  be  empty,  and  thus  bring  down  the 
chary  buck  or  spotted  fawn.  The  gunner  would  aver 
that  he  could  do  better  execution  at  greater  distance. 
These  trials  of  skill  were  often  made,  and  each  time 
the  difterence  'twixt  white  and  red  skin  seemed  to 
diminish.  The  young  pale-face  would  sling  his  gun 
and  straightway  bend  his  steps  toward  the  camp  of 
Santiam.  By  signs  that  he  had  learned,  he  took  the 
young  chief's  trail,  and  followed  through  Avoodcd 
plains,  or  up  the  mountain  side,  until  they  would  hail 
each  other,  and  then,  by  agreement,  would  separate 
to  meet  again  at  some  appointed  place,  laying  a  wager 


!!P 

i 

„;  ;1 

1 1 

* 

if 

H 

! 

II 

1  ta 

1! 

\s 

i 

104 


WIOWAai   AND  WARPATH. 


■^iil-  Q  If 


who  would  be  most  successful  in  the  chase  of  black- 
called  deer  or  mountain  sheep. 

The  hill-sides  had  put  on  autumn  hues,  and  the 
loftier  hills  were  dressed  in  winter's  garb,  and  gave 
warning  to  the  denizens  who  spent  their  summers 
near  their  peaks,  that  cold  weather  would  soon  drive 
them  to  the  hills  beneath  for  refuge  from  the  blasts 
that  howl  above  the  roar  of  mountain  lion  or  jumping 
torrents. 

The  keeper  of  the  fleecy  clouds  had  jiven  sign  of 
readiness,  and,  in  fact,  had  begun  to  spread  the  win- 
ter's carpet  down,  to  preserve  the  tender  grasses  for 
the  antlered  herd,  which  would  return  in  open  spring 
to  train  their  limbs  for  daring  feats,  in  defiance  of  the 
feathered  arrow,  or  his  neighbor,  the  loud-talking 
gun. 

Santiam,  to  aiv  'x-ipate  their  coming,  had  started  in 
the  early  morn,  while  yet  the  sun  was  climbing  the 
eastern  slope  of  Jefferson,  and,  leaving  a  sign  im- 
printed in  iho  snow,  for  his  friend  to  read,  hurried  on, 
hoping  that  from  ambush  he  might  send  his  arrow 
home  to  the  panting  heart  of  the  bounding  deer.  His 
friend,  anticipating  the  coming  of  his  rival,  had  already 
gone  by  another  route  to  the  trysting  place;  while 
waiting  there  for  valley-going  game,  he  spied  a  griz- 
zly bear,  and,  without  knowing  the  habits  of  the  mon- 
ster, he  took  deliberate  aim  and  fired,  but  failed  L?- 
bring  his  bearship  to  the  ground. 

These  fellows,  when  undisturbed,  are  sure  to  run; 
but  when  the  leaden  ball  had  pierced  this  one's  pelt, 
he  exhibitRd  the  usual  bearish  indications  of  resent- 
ment for  insult  offered.  The  pale-face  hunter  stood 
his  ground,  and  sent  another  ball,  merely  to  pert?uade 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


105 


his  enemy  to  desist.  To  those  accustomed  to  this 
kind  of  fight,  I  need  not  say  that  every  shot  made 
the  matter  worse.  These  kings  of  the  Cascades  yield 
not  to  showers  of  leaden  hail  or  flocks  of  flying  ar- 
rows until  the  life  of  tlieir  enemy  or  their  own 
gives  victory.  With  lumbering  gait  and  open  mouth, 
he  closed  upon  the  hapless  hunter,  and  had  home  him 
to  the  ground,  when  Santiam  reached  the  scene.  He 
hesitated  not  on  which  side  he  would  volunteer. 
Snatching  from  bis  belt  a  hatchet,  and  a  well-tried 
knife,  he,  too,  closed  on  the  grizzly,  and  drew  his  at- 
tention from  his  friend,  who,  in  turn,  would  attack 
the  wounded  monster,  and  thus  alternating  between 
two  enemies,  he  grew  more  furious  and  regardless  of 
consequences. 

Rallying  again  to  renew  the  desperate  struggle, 
though  his  life  was  ebbing  fast,  he  threw  his  great 
body  on  the  pale-faced  hunter,  when  Santiam,  with 
well-aimed  steel  at  his  heart,  closed  the  battle.  His 
friend  had  been  severely  wounded,  And  lay  prostrate 
on  the  ground ;  his  torn  garments  dripping  in  blood, 
his  own,  and  that  of  his  dread  enemy,  mingled.  The 
young  chief  soon  had  a  blazing  f ''e,  and  then  tying 
up  the  wounds  of  his  friend,  to  stop  the  flow  of  blood, 
he  hastened  to  his  home  for  aid. 

Returning  with  a  cluchman  of  his  tribe,  he  found 
his  friend  sinking  fast.  Making  a  hasty  litter  of  pine 
limbs,  they  bore  th„  wounded  hunter  to  his  home. 
The  mother,  at  the  sight  of  her  son  so  mangled,  like 
a  true  heroine,  overcame  her  fear,  and  made  prepara- 
tion for  his  comfort.  The  sister,  in  her  quiet  way, 
brought  refreshment  for  her  brother,  and  while  the 
father  and  his  comrade,  the  "medicine  man,"  were 


106 


WIGWAM    AST)   WARPATH. 


!     i 


joining  their  skill  to  provide  remedies  for  the  wounded 
one,  young  Santiam,  acting  from  the  precepts  of  his 
people,  had  hurried  back  to  the  battle-ground,  and, 
with  his  cluchman's  help,  soon  stripped  the  pelt  from 
the  dead  beast,  and  brought  it  to  the  home  of  his 
white  rival,  and  then  the  "  medicine  man,"  with  faith 
based  on  tradition's  usage,  bound  up  the  wounds 
therewith. 

The  days  v/ent  slowly  by,  until  the  danger  was 
passed.  Santiam  went  not  to  the  chase,  unless  for 
choicest  food  for  his  friend,  but  waited  beside  the 
couch  of  his  comrade  for  his  recovery;  sometimes 
joining  with  the  sick  man's  sister  in  watching  his 
slumbers,  or,  may  be,  touching  hand^  in  ministering 
to  his  wants. 

She,  with  missionary  spirit,  sought  to  teach  San- 
tiam words,  and  the  history,  too,  of  her  people,  their 
ways,  and  higher  life  than  he  had  known.  He  was 
apt  at  learning,  as  my  reader  may  discover  by  his 
speech,  recited  in  this  book,  made  in  council  years 
alter.  His  dark  eye  kindled  as  some  new  knowledge 
found  way  to  his  understanding,  and  his  heart  grew 
warmer  at  the  sound  of  voice  from  pale-faced  cluch- 
man.  If  history  be  true,  her  eye  kindled  too,  at  the 
coming  of  the  quiet  step  of  the  young  comrade  of 
her  brother,  and  her  heart  felt  a  new,  strange  fire,  that 
sent  it^  ^ame  to  her  cheeks  in  tell-tale  roses. 

Xovice  though  he  was  in  civilized  ways,  he  was  a 
man,  and  with  quick  perception  made  the  discovery 
that  he  now  cared  more  for  his  comi'ade's  sister  tlian 
for  him;  and  that  even  the  sister  thought  of  her 
brother  in  the  third  person. 

This  Missouri  man   had  not  yet  recognized  the 


:J■^    I 


WIGWAM   AND    WARPATH. 


107 


growing  love  between  his  daughter  and  young  San- 
tiam;  and  the  mother,  too,  without  recalling  the  youth- 
ful days  of  her  own  wooing,  —  perhaps  she  had  none? 
but  years  before,  in  obedience  to  a  custom  of  her  own 
people,  had  listened  to  a  proposal,  and  accepted,  be- 
cause she  might "  do  no  better," — did  not  recognize  the 
signs  of  coming  trouble  to  her  household,  in  the  rus- 
tic courtship  going  on.  Why  do  parents  so  soon  for- 
get their  wooing  days,  and  hide  the  history  from  their 
children,  when  so  nearly  all  that  human  nature  en- 
.'uj'fs  of  woes,  or  enjoys  of  bliss,  cjmes  through  the 
agency  of  the  emotions  and  affections  of  the  heart? 

This  guileless  girl,  cut  off  from  association  with 
her  ovm  people  by  action  of  her  father,  and  in  grati- 
tude for  the  young  chief's  kindness  to  her  brother, 
had,  under  the  prompting  of  the  richest  emotions  that 
God  had  given,  opened  her  heart  in  friendship  first 
and  invited  the  visitor  to  share  so  much;  little  dream- 
ing that,  when  once  the  guest  was  there,  he  would 
become  a  constant  tenant,  against  whose  expulsion 
she  wouln  hoi'self  rebel. 

The  7  ;!n\t'  chief  himself  did  not  realize  that  the 
finest,  -^  ^  ''s!  feelings  of  the  human  heart  are  sup- 
posed by  gi  ■;  '•  ev  men  to  be  confined  to  the  same  race 
or  c  'lor.  Perhaps  he  thought  the  Great  Spirit  had 
mau>  11  alike,  not  fixed  the  difference  in  the  hue  of 
the  skin.  He  was  a  free  man;  did  not  know  that 
civilization  had  raised  a  barrier  between  the  races. 
He  had,  without  knowing  what  he  did,  found  the 
barrici  si  own,  and  passed  beyond  in  natural  freedom, 
and,  w-t'  '>ut  thought  of  wrong,  had  given  full  free- 
dom to  his  heart. 

The  winter  passed,  and  spring  had  sprinkled  the 


(!■  1 1 


108 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


«' '» 


•:f  1 


hill-side  with  flowers.  The  wilder  herds  had  fled  from 
the  huntsman's  horn,  and  climbed  again  to  pleasure- 
grounds,  where  the  tender  grasses  cropped  out  from 
retreating  snow-fields.  The  rival  hunters  had  again 
resumed  the  chase,  and  spent  whole  days  in  telling 
stories  of  the  past,  or  living  over  the  battle  of  the 
preceding  autumn.  Each  rehearsal  made  them  better 
friends,  and  confidence  grew  mutual.  Santiam,  with 
freedom,  spoke  to  his  u'^^o  brother  of  the  "fire  in  his 
heart," —  so  these  people  ak  of  love, —  of  the  sister 
whom  he  loved.  Who  ever  told  a  fellow  that  he 
loved  his  sister  without  making  friendship  tremble 
for  the  result? 

The  pale-face  boy  of  whom  I  am  writing  still  lives, 
though  grown  into  gray  manhood,  to  verify  this  story. 
When  Santiam  had  told  his  story,  her  brother  was 
quiet  and  thought  in  silence,  while  the  warrior  talked 
on,  of  how  he  would  be  a  "  white  man "  and  put 
away  his  wild  habits,  and  be  his  brother.  The  other 
promised  that  he  would  consult  his  family,  and  thus 
they  parted  for  the  night. 

The  morning  found  Santiam  at  the  cabin  of  the 
"  settler,"  little  dreaming  that  the  friendship  they  had 
shown  him  was  so  soon  to  be  withdrawn.  He  saw 
the  ominous  word  refusal  in  the  cold  reception  that 
he  met.  One  pair  of  eyes  alone  talked  in  sympathetic 
glances.     He  waited  to  hear  no  more. 

I  would  like  to  accommodate  my  youthful  readers 
with  what  would  make  this  romantic  story  run  on 
until  some  happy  denouement  had  been  found,  and 
then  resume  my  work;  but  I  dare  not  be  false  to 
history.  The  white  man  moved  away.  The  Indian 
remained  until,  through  misunderstanding  between 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


109 


the 
had 
saw 
that 
thetic 

laders 
[u  on 
and 
Ise  to 
idian 
tween 


his  people  and  the  white  race,  war  ensued ;  the 
frontier  rang  out  the  fearful  challenge  of  battle, 
and  victims  of  both  races  were  offered  up  to  ap- 
pease insult  and  thirst  for  vengeance.  The  white 
hunter  and  his  father  united  with  others  in  a  war 
of  extermination"  against  the  Indians,  while  they 
left  a  home  defenceless. 

Young  Santiam  refused  to  war  against  the  white 
man.  He  gave  protection  to  the  cabin  that  sheltered 
his  love  of  other  days.  The  maiden  is  maiden  yet; 
and,  though  gray  hair  crowns  her  head,  she  is  still 
faithful  to  the  vows  made  to  her  Indian  lover  in  her 
girlhood.  Whether  she  condemns  the  usage  of 
society  that  forbade  her  marriage,  or  blesses  it  be- 
cause it  saved  her  from  a  savage  life,  we  know  not. 
She  may  blame  her  parents  for  their  short-sighted 
action  in  isolating  her  from  those  congenial  to  her 
heart,  by  locating  on  the  frontier  where  she  met 
Santiam;  surely,  not  for  prohibiting  her  marriage  to 
him. 

Santiam,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  removed  with  his 
peoj)le  to  Grand  Round  Agency,  where  he  has  lived 
since.  Hear  him  talk  in  the  Salem  council  of  1871, 
and  judge  him  by  his  speeches.  Faithful  to  his  com- 
pacts, he  remains  on  his  home.  Few  of  those  who 
meet  him  when  he  visits  Salem  know  of  this  romance 
of  his  life,  but  hundreds  give  him  the  hand  of  friend- 
ship. 

To  resume.  Grand  Round  valley,  the  name  of  which 
suggests  its  size  and  shape,  lay  stretched  out  before 
us,  a  beautiful  picture  from  Nature's  gallery,  embel- 
lished by  the  touches  that  Uncle  Sam's  greenbacks 
had  given  to  this  agency  in  building  churches,  halls, 


110 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


18*  -b 


j.v* 


and  Indian  honscs,  together  with  a  large  farm  for 
general  use,  and  small  ones  for  individuals. 

At  every  change  of  Government  officers,  Reserva- 
tion Indians  show  the  Uveliest  interest,  and  have  great 
curiosity  to  see  the  new  man.  My  arrival  was  ImoAVii 
to  all  the  i)eople  very  soon  The  Indians  of  this 
agency  were  more  advanced  in  civilization  than  those 
of  any  other  in  Oregon.  They  had  been  located  by 
the  Government,  fifteen  years  previously.  Many  of 
them  were  prisoners  of  wav,  in  chains  and  under 
guard,  and  had  been  subjugated,  through  sheer  ex- 
haustion; others  were  under  treaty.  Their  very  pov- 
ei'ty  and  the  scanty  subsistence  the  Government  gave, 
was  to  them  a  blessing.  Permitted  to  labor  for  per- 
sons who  lived  "  outside,"  passes  were  given  each  for 
a  specified  time.  Thus  their  employers  became  each 
a  civilizer. 

At  the  time  of  my  first  official  visit,  they  had  aban- 
doned Indian  costume,  and  were  dressed  in  the  usual 
garb  of  white  men;  many  of  them  had  learned  to  talk 
our  language.  At  my  request,  messengers  were  sent 
out,  and  the  people  were  invited  to  come  in  at  an  early 
hour  the  following  day.  Before  the  time  appointed 
they  began  to  arrive.  A  few  were  on  foot,  the  re- 
mainder in  wagons,  or  on  horseback;  the  younger 
men  and  women  coming  in  pairs,  after  the  fashion  of 
white  people  around  them,  all  arrayed  in  best  attire, 
for  it  was  a  gala  day  to  them.  I  noticed  that  in  some 
instances  the  women  were  riding  side-saddles,  instead 
of  the  old  Indian  way,  astride. 

The  children  were  not  left  at  home,  neither  were 
they  bound  in  thongs  to  boards,  or  swinging  in  pap- 
poose  baskets ;  but  some,  at  least,  were  carried  on  the 


ted 
re- 
fer 
|pf 
Ire, 
bie 
ad 


fere 
he 


c 


!! 


WIGWASI   AND   WARPATH. 


113 


pummel  of  the  father's  saddle.  They  were  clothed 
like  other  children.  Strange  and  encouraging  spec- 
tacle, to  witness  Indian  men,  who  were  born  savages, 
conforming  to  usages  of  civil  life.  "When  once  an  In- 
dian abandons  the  habits  and  customs  of  his  fathers, 
and  has  tasted  the  air  which  his  more  enlightened 
brother  breathes,  he  never  goes  back  so  long  as  he 
associates  with  good  men. 

These  people,  in  less  than  twenty  years,  under  the 
management  of  the  several  agents,  had  been  trans- 
formed, from  "  Darwin's "  wild  beasts,  almost  to 
civilized  manhood,  notwithstanding  the  croaking  of 
soulless  men  who  constantly  accuse  United  States 
agents  of  all  kinds  of  misdemeanors  and  crimes. 

AVhen  they  were  first  located,  they  numbered  about 
twenty-one  hundred  souls.  At  the  time  of  which  I 
write,  they  had  dwindled  away  to  about  half  that 
number. 

"When  the  hour  for  the  talk  arrived  the  people  filled 
the  council  house,  and  crowded  the  doers  and  win- 
dows, so  that  we  found  it  necessary  to  adjourn  to  the 
open  air  for  room  and  comfort.  The  agent.  La  Fol- 
lette,  went  through  the  form  of  introducing  me  to  his 
people,  calling  each  one  by  name. 

This  ceremony  is  always  conducted  with  solemnity; 
each  Indian,  as  he  extends  the  hand,  gazing  stead- 
fastly into  the  eye  of  the  person  introduced.  They 
seem  to  read  character  rapidly,  and  with  correctness 
equal  to,  and  sometimes  excelling,  more  enlightened 
people. 

First,  a  short  speech  by  Agent  La  FoUette,  followed 
by  the  "  Salem  tyee,"  —  superiiitendent.  I  said  that 
"  I  was  pleased  to  find  them  so  far  advanced  in  civil- 


is 


I  if 


'fill' 


114 


WIGWAM   AND  AVARPATH. 


ization;  that  I  was  now  the  *  Salem  tycc'  You 
are  my  children.  I  came  to  show  you  my  heart,  to  see 
your  hearts,  to  talk  with  you  about  your  affairs." 

Jo  Ilutchins  —  chief  of  Santiams  —  was  first  to 
speak.  He  said :  "  You  see  our  people  arc  not  rich ; 
they  are  poor.  We  are  glad  to  shake  hands  with  you 
and  show  our  hearts.  You  look  like  a  good  man,  but 
I  will  not  give  you  my  heart  until  I  know  you  better." 
Louis  Neposa  said:  "I  have  been  here  fifteen  years. 
I  have  seen  all  the  countiy  from  here  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  I  had  a  home  on  Rogue  river;  I  had  a 
house  and  barn;  I  gave  them  up  to  come  here.  That 
house  on  that  hill  is  mine;"  pointing  towards  the 
house  in  question. 

Indian  speeches  are  remarkable  for  pertinency  and 
for  forcible  expression,  many  of  them  abounding  in 
flights  of  imagination  and  bursts  of  oratory.  Much 
of  the  original  beauty  is  lost  in  the  translation,  as  few 
of  them  speak  in  the  English  language  when  deliver- 
ing a  speech.  Interpreters  are  often  illiterate  men, 
and  cannot  render  the  subject-matter  with  the  full 
force  and  beauty  of  the  original,  much  less  imitate 
the  gesture  and  voice. 

During  my  residence  in  the  far  West,  and  espec- 
ially while  in  Government  employ,  I  have  taken  notes, 
and  in  many  instances,  kept  verbatim  reports,  the 
work  being  done  by  clerks  of  the  several  agencies. 
I  have  selected,  from  several  hundred  pages,  a  few 
speeches,  made  by  these  people,  for  use  in  making  up 
my  book.  It  will  be  observed  that  the  sentences  are 
short,  and  repetitions  sometimes  occur.  In  fact,  these 
orators  of  nature  follow  nature,  and  repeat  themselves, 
as  our  greatest  orators  do,  and  their  skill  in  the  art 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


115 


of  repetition  is  something  marvellous.  This  is  pecu- 
liar to  all  Indian  councils,  though  not  always  recorded. 
The  following  are  word  for  word,  especially  Wapto 
Dave  and  Jo  Ilutchins'  speeches :  — 

Black  Tom  said:  "I  am  a  wild  Injun.  I  don't 
know  much.  I  have  not  much  sense.  I  cannot  talk 
well.  I  feel  like  a  man  going  through  the  bushes, 
when  he  is  going  to  fight;  like  he  was  thinking  some 
man  was  behind  a  bush,  going  to  shoot  him.  I  have 
been  fooled  many  times.  I  don't  know  much.  Some 
tyees  talk  well  when  they  first  come.  I  have  seen 
their  children  wearing  shirts  like  those  they  gave  me; 
may  be  it  was  all  right.     I  don't  know  nmch." 

Solomon  Rigfs  —  chief  of  the  Umpyuas  —  said: 
"  I  am  not  a  wild  man.  I  have  sense.  I  know  some 
things.  I  have  learned  to  work.  I  was  born  wild, 
but  I  am  not  wild  now.  I  live  in  a  house.  I  have  a 
wagon  and  horses  that  I  worked  for.  They  are  mine. 
The  Government  did  not  give  them  to  me.  That 
woman  is  my  wife,  and  that  is  my  baby.  He  will 
have  some  sense.  I  show  you  my  heart.  I  Avant  you 
to  give  me  your  heart.  I  don't  want  to  be  a  wild 
Injun."  See  speech  of  Solomon  Riggs  in  Salem 
Council. 

All  the  "head  men"  made  short  speeches,  after 
which  we  came  to  business  talk.  Superintendent 
Meacham  said :  "  I  see  before  me  the  remnants  of  a 
great  people.  Your  fathers  are  buried  in  a  far  coun- 
try. I  will  show  you  my  heart  now.  You  are  not 
wild  men.  You  are  not  savages.  You  are  men  and 
women.  You  have  sense  and  hearts  to  feel.  I  did 
not  come  here  to  dig  up  anything  that  is  buried.  I 
have  nothing  to  say  about  the  men  who  have  gone 


*«'5iii; 


hJ'> 


IIG 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


before  me.  That  is  past.  "We  drop  that.  We  can- 
not dig  it  np  now.  We  have  enough  to  think  about. 
I  do  not  promise  what  I  will  do,  except  I  will  do  right 
as  I  see  what  is  right.  I  may  make  some  mistakes. 
I  want  to  talk  with  you  about  your  agent.  I  think 
he  will  do  right.  He  is  a  good  man.  I  will  help  him. 
He  will  help  me.  You  will  help  us.  You  are  not 
fools.  You  are  men.  You  have  a  right  to  be  heard. 
You  shall  be  heard.  We  are  paid  to  take  care  of  you. 
Our  time  belongs  to  the  Indians  in  Oregon.  The 
Government  has  bought  our  sense ;  that  belongs  to 
you.  The  money  in  our  hands  is  not  ours,  it  is  yours. 
AVe  cannot  pay  you  the  money.  The  law  says  we 
must  not;  still  it  is  yours.  You  have  been  here  long 
enough  to  have  sense.  You  know  what  you  want. 
You  can  tell  us.     We  will  hear  you. 

"  If  you  want  what  is  right  we  will  get  it  for  you. 
You  need  not  be  afraid  to  speak  out.  The  time  has 
come  when  a  man  is  judged  by  his  sense,  not  his  skin. 
In  a  few  years  more  the  treaty  will  be  d^ad.  Then 
you  must  be  ready  to  take  care  of  yourreiv^es.  You 
need  not  fear  to  speak.  Nobody  will  stop  your 
mouth.  We  are  ready  now  to  hear  you  talk.  We 
have  shown  our  heart.  Now  talk  like  men.  I  have 
spoken." 

A  silence  of  some  moments  followed.  The  chiefs 
and  head  men  seemed  taken  by  surprise.  They  could 
not  comprehend  or  believe  that  the  declarations  made 
were  real;  that  they  were  to  be  allowed  to  give  an 
opinion  in  matters  pertaining  to  their  own  interests. 
I  would  not  convey  the  idea  that  my  predecessors  had 
been  bad  men.  They  were  not;  but  they  had,  some 
of  them,  and  perhaps  all  of  them,  looked  on  these 


WIOWAM   AJJD  WARPATH, 


117 


Indians  as  wards,  or  orj)han  children.  They  had  not 
recognized  the  I'act  that  these  people  had  come  up, 
from  a  low,  degraded  condition  of  captive  savages,  to 
a  status  of  intelligence  that  entitled  them  to  consid- 
eration. The  people  themselves  had  not  dared  to 
demand  a  hearing.  They  were  subjugated,  and  felt 
it  too;  but  I  know  in  their  hearts  they  often  longed 
for  the  boon  that  was  oflered  to  them. 

It  is  due  to  the  citizens  who  occupy  the  country 
adjoining  this  agency,  in  whose  employ  the  Indians 
had  spent  much  time  in  labor  on  farm,  Avood-yurds, 
and  various  other  kinds  of  business,  that  they  had, 
by  easy  lessons,  and,  with  commendable  patience, 
taught  these  down-trodden  people  that  they  had  a 
r'ght  to  look  up.     "  Honor  to  whom  honor  is  due." 

AVapto  Dave,  a  chief  of  a  small  band  of  Waptos, 
Avas  the  first  to  speak.  He  delivered  his  speech  in 
my  own  language :  "  The  boys  all  wait  for  me  to  speak 
first ;  because  me  understand  some  things.  We  hear  you 
talk.  We  don't  know"  whether  you  mean  it.  Maybe 
you  are  smart.  We  have  been  fooled  a  heap.  We  don't 
want  no  lies.  We  don't  talk  lies.  S'pose  you  talk 
straight.  All  right.  Me  tell  you  some  things.  All  our 
people  vefy  poor;  they  got  no  good  houses;  no  good 
mills.  ISTo  wagons;  got  no  harness ;  no  ploughs.  They 
get  some,  they  work  heap.  They  buy  them.  Govern- 
ment no  give  em.  We  want  these  things.  Maybe  you 
don't  like  my  talk.     I  am  done." 

Jo  Hutchins  —  Chief  of  Santiams  —  said,  "  I  am 
watchmg  your  eye.  I  am  watching  your  tongue.  I  am 
thinking  all  the  time.  ^Perhaps  you  are  making  fools  of 
us.  We  don't  want  to  be  made  fools.  I  have  heard 
tyees  talk  like  you  do  now.     They  go  back  home  and 


118 


WIOWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


send  us  something  a  white  man  don't  want.  We  are  not 
dogs.  We  have  hearts.  Yie  may  be  blind.  We  do  not 
see  the  things  tlietreaty  promised.  Maybe  they  got  lost 
on  the  way.  The  President  is  a  long  way  off.  He  can't 
hear  us.  Our  worfVj  get  lost  in  the  v/ind  before  they 
get  there.  Maybe  his  ear  is  smal^.  Maybe  your  ears 
are  small.  They  look  big.  '  Our  ears  are  large.  We 
hear  everything.  Some  things  we  don't  like.  We 
have  been  a  long  time  in  the  mud.  Sometimes  we 
sink  down.  Some  white  men  help  us  up.  Some  white 
men  stand  on  our"  heads.  We  want  a  school- house 
built  on  the  ground  of  the  Santiam  people.  Then  our 
children  can  have  some  sense.  We  want  an  Indian 
to  w^ork  in  the  blacksmith  shop.  We  don't  like  half- 
breeds.  They  are  not  Injuns.  They  ave  not  white 
men.  Their  hearts  are  divided.  We  want  some 
harness.  We  want  some  ploughs.  We  want  a  saw- 
mill. What  is  a  mill  good  for  that  has  no  dam?  That 
old  mill  is  not  good;  it  won't  saw  boards.  AVe  want 
a  cii^rch.  Some  of  these  people  are  Catholics.  Some 
of  ti:em  are  like  Mr.  Parish,  a  Methodist.  Some  got 
no  religion.  Maybe  they  don't  need  religion.  Some 
people  think  Indians  got  no  sense.  We  don't  want 
any  blankets.  We  have  had  a  heap  of  blankets. 
Some  of  them  have  been  like  sail-cloth  muslin.  The 
old  people  have  got  no  sense ;  they  want  blankets. 
The  treaty  said  we,  every  man,  have  his  land.  He 
nave  a  paper  for  his  land.  We  don't  see  the  papev. 
We  see  the  land.  We  want  it  divided.  When  we 
have  land  all  n  one  place,  some  Injun  put  his  horses 
in  the  field;  anothcx- Injun  turn  them  out.  Then  they 
go  to  law.  One  man  says  another  man  got  the  best 
ground.     They  go  to  law  about  that.    We  want  the 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


119 


land  marked  out.  Every  man  builds  his  own  house. 
We  want  sonxC  apples.  Mark  out  the  land,  then  we 
plant  some  trees,  by-and-by  we  have  some  ajjples. 

"  Maybe  you  don't  like  my  talk.  I  talk  straight.  I 
am  not  a  coward.  I  am  chief  of  the  Santiams.  You 
hear  me  now.  We  see  your  eyes;  look  straight. 
Maybe  you  are  a  good  man.  We  will  find  out.  So- 
chala-tyec,  —  God  sees  you.  He  sees  us.  All  these 
people  hear  me  talk.  Some  of  them  are  scared.  I 
am  not  afraid.    Alta-kup-et,  —  I  am  done." 

Here  was  a  man  talking  to  the  point.  He  dodged 
nothing.  He  spoke  the  hearts  of  the  people.  They 
supported  him  with  frequent  applause.  Other  s^Deeches 
were  made,  all  touching  practical  points.  The  abstract 
of  issues  following  that  council  exhibit  the  distribu- 
tion of  hardware,  axes,  saws,  hatchets,  mauls,  iron 
wedges;  also,  iiarness,  ploughs,  hoes,  scythes,  and 
various  farming  implements.  The  reasonable  and 
numerous  points  involved  laanj  questions  of  impor- 
tance, which  were  submitted  to  the  Hon.  Commissioner 
of  Indian  Affairs,  Washington  city.* 

*  See  Appendix. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


STOPPING  THE  SURVEY  — WHY. 


j;l*" 


Without  waiting  for  red  tape,  we  proceeded  to 
erect  a  new  saw-mill.  The  Indians  performed  much 
of  the  necessary  labor.  With  one  white  man  to  direct 
them,  they  prepared  all  the  timber,  built  a  dam,  and 
cut  a  race,  several  hundred  yards  in  length,  and  within 
ninety  days  from  "  breaking  ground  "  the  new  saw  • 
mill  was  making  lumber. 

The  Indians  formed  into  working  parties  and  de- 
liverod  logs  as  fast  as  the  mill  could  saw  them.  Mr. 
Manrow,  a  practical  sawyer,  was  placed  in  charge  of 
the  mill,  and,  with  Indian  help  only,  he  manufactured 
four  to  eight  thousand  feet  of  lumber  per  day.  He 
subsequently  remarked  that  "  they  were  as  good  help 
as  he  wanted." 


The  understand  ins:  before 


commencmg 


work  on 


the  mill  was  to  the  effect  that  it  was  to  belong  to  the 
Indians  on  Grand  Round  Agency,  when  completed. 
Those  who  furnished  logs  were  to  own  the  lumber 
after  snic  of  sufficient  quantity  to  pay  the  "  sawyer," 
the  whole  to  be  under  control  of  the  acting  agent. 

Misunderstandings  seem  to  have  arisen  between 
the  agent  and  Indians,  growing  out  of  the  sale 
of  lumber  manufactured  by  the  mill.  The  only 
misunde/standing  that  could  have  arisen,  was  that 
wherein  the  Indians  claim  that  "the  Government 
would  pay  the  expense   of  running  it,"  —  the  saw- 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


121 


mill,  —  and  they  —  the  Indians  —  should  have  the 
lumber  to  dispose  of  as  they  thought  best,  claiming 
the  right  to  sell  it  to  the  whites  outside  of  the  Reser- 
vation." 

It  was  so  agreed  and  understood  as  above  stated, 
that  the  Government  agent  was  to  manage  the  busi- 
ness, pay  the  sawyer,  and  meet  such  other  expenses 
as  might  accrue,  out  of  the  sale  of  lumber,  and  the 
remamder  to  belong  to  jyarties  fundshing  logs,  with 
the  privilege  of  selling  fo  persons  wherever  a  market 
could  be  found.  If  any  other  plan  has  been  adopted, 
it  is  in  violation  of  the  agreement  made  ^\  ;'!i  the  In- 
dians at  the  council  that  considered  the  question  of 
building  the  mills.  A  full  report  of  that  council  was 
forwarded  to  the  Commissioner  at  Washington  (see 
page  162),  was  filed  in  the  office  of  Superintendent 
of  Indian  Affairs,  Salem,  Oregon,  and  was,  or  should 
have  been,  recorded  on  the  books  at  Grand  Round 
Agency. 

The  Indians  of  Grand  Round  own  the  mills.  "  he 
funds  invested  in  their  erection  did  not  beloUj^  to 
agent  or  Government.  It  was  the  Indians'  money, 
and  was  so  expended  by  their  knowledge  and  request. 
The  sweat  of  these  people  was  dropped  in  the  long 
race,  cut  for  the  mills.  Every  stick  of  timber  in  them 
was  prepared,  partly  at  least,  by  Indian  labor.  They 
had  accepted  this  little  valley  at  the  bidding  of 
a  powerful  Government,  who  had  promised  them 
mills  (see  treaty  of  1866),  and  had  constructed 
inferior  machinery,  at  enormous  expense,  that  had 
never  been  worth  one-half  the  greenbacks  they  had 
cost. 

These  people  have  advanced  more  rapidly  in  civil- 


'-  ;'; 


iPli 


I 


122 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


izatioii  than  any  other  Indian  people  on  "the  coast." 
Thej  had  learned  a  great  amount  of  useful  knowl- 
edge ">yhlle  working  for  the  white  men,  to  make  a 
living  for  their  families,  when  the  Government  had 
failed  to  furnish  subsistence  for  them.  They  were  now 
ready  to  take  care  of  their  interests,  when  men  paid 
to  instruct  them  had  j^erformed  their  duty. 

If  these  Indians  are  ever  to  manage  for  themselves, 
why  not  begin  with  easy  lessons,  while  they  have,  or 
are  supposed  to  have,  an  i  gent,  whose  duty  it  was  to 
stand  between  them  and  the  stronger  race  with 
whom  they  are  to  mingle  and  associate? 

I  repeat  that  these  Indian  men  own  the  mills,  and 
are  entitled  to  the  proceeds,  and  that  it  is,  and  was, 
an  agent's  duty  to  transact  such  j^arts  of  the  business 
as  the  Indians  could  not  themselves.  "What  if  it  did 
require  Ir.oor  and  care  to  prevent  confusion?  The 
agent  was  paid  for  his  time,  his  business  talent,  and, 
if  he  was  unwilling  or  incompcLent,  he  was  not  in  a 
proper  position. 

The  agent  says,  "I  have  allowed  them  one-half 
the  lumber  made,  when  they  wished  to  use  it  for 
building  purposes,  retaining  the  other  half  for  the 
departmenc,  until  such  time  as  it  can  be  used  in  im- 
provement, or  otherwise  disposed  of  for  tlicir  common 
benefit."  If  the  department  required  lumber,  let  the 
Indians  be  the  meixhants^  and  receive  the  pay.  To 
dispose  of  it  for  their  benefit  was  to  compel  those 
who  were  willing  to  labor  to  support  those  wdio  were 
not.  Working  parties  were  organized  among  them 
by  agent  La  Follette,  and  they  wei«.  to  enjoy  the  priv- 
ilege of  furnishing  saw-logs  in  turn;  thus  encour- 
aging enterprise  among  them.     Klamath  Indian  mill 


WIGWASI   AND  WARPATH. 


123 


furnished  several  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  lumber 
for  the  Military  Department  at  Fort  Klamath,  and  for 
outride  people  too,  and  the  proceeds  were  paid  to  the 
Indians  who  did  the  work,  or  it  was  invested  in  stock 
cattle  for  them.  In  the  name  of  justice  I  protest,  as 
a  friend  of  the  Indians,  against  the  confiscation,  by 
our  Government,  of  labor  and  lumber  belonging  to 
he  Indians  of  Grand  Round  Agency. 

Reference  has  been  made  to  the  allottment  of  land 
to  these  people.  The  letter  following  will  give  the 
reader  some  idea  of  the  manner  in  which  it  was  done, 
and  the  various  questions  that  were  to  be  considered 
in  connection  with  this  important  episode  in  the  lives 
of  these  people.* 

The  enrolment  referred  to  was  completed.  The 
surveying  was  done  by  Col.  D.  P.  Thompson,  United 
States  Deputy  Surveyor. 

While  he  was  engaged  in  doing  this  work,  the  In- 
dians assisted  materially,  and  followed  him  in  crowds, 
each  anxious  to  see  where  the  lines  would  run, 
whether  they  would  confoira  to  their  preconceived 
hopes  or  not. 

The  thoughts  of  these  men  —  for  they  were  men  — 
^ust  have  been  very  comforting  at  the  prospect  of 
j)romises  being  at  last  fulfilled.  Many  years  had 
passed,  waiting,  waiting,  waiting  for  the  time  to  come 
when  they  should  have  homes  "like  white  men." 
They  well  understood  the  arrangement  in  regard  to 
the  amount  oi  land  that  was  to  be  given  to  each.  I 
have  not  the  "  Willamette  Treaty  "  before  me,  but, 
from  memory,  state,  that  each  grown  person  was  to 
have  twenty  acres,  with  ten  acres  additional  for  each 
minor  child. 

*  See  Appendix. 


124 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


:.W! 


Col.  Thompson,  the  surveyor,  relates,  that  while 
engaged  in  surveying  near  the  house  of  a  "  Wapto" 
Indian,  said  Indian  came  to  him  with  a  very  serious 
face,  and  requested  the  suspension  of  the  work.  The 
colonel,  being  a  humorous  man,  and  patient  withal, 
entertained  the  petition,  but  demanded  to  know  the 
reason  why  the  survey  should  stop. 

"  Wapto  "  said,  in  jargon,  "  Indian  ISTecseka-nan- 
itch-mi-ka,  is-cum,  twenty  acres;  JS^ika  cluchman  is- 
cum,  twenty  acres;  Ni-ka  ten-us-cluehman  is-cum, 
ten  acres;  Kika  ten-us-man  is-cum,  ten  acres;  Ma- 
mook,  sixty  acres;  Al-ka.  You  see  I  get  twenty 
acres,  my  squaw  get  twenty  acres,  my  daughter  get 
ten  acres,  ray  son  get  ten  acres,  making  sixty  acres  in 
all.  Sposc  Mesika  Capit  mamook  ieta  clihe,  Kau-yua 
nika  is  cum,  seventy  acres.  Suppose  you  stop  sur- 
veying, and  wait  awhile,  I  can  get  seventy  acres,  may 
be  eighty  acres.     Cum-tux,  —  understand?  " 

The  colonel  took  the  hint,  when  the  Indian  pointed 
to  the  small  lodge,  fitted  up  expressly,  as  the  custom 
among  these  people  is,  for  important  occasions  of  the 
kind  intimated  above. 

Whether  he  changed  his  course  in  surveying,  he 
did  not  say,  but  went  on  to  relate,  that  a  few  days 
after  the  above  conversation,  the  same  Indian  came  to 
him  and  said,  " ]!^ika-i8-cum, Ten-is-man  "  —  "I  have 
another  boy."  —  "  Klat-a-wa-ma-mook-elihe  "  —  "  Go 
on  with  the  suryey."  —  "  ^N^ika  is-cum,  seventy  acres  " 
—  "I  get  seventy  acres."  He  seemed  much  elated 
with  the  new  boy,  and  the  additional  ten  acres  of  land. 

The  surveying  was  completed,  but  "  red  tape  "  was 
in  the  way  of  allotment,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of 
some  of  the  people,  who  were  hoping  for  as  good  for- 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


125 


time  as  "  Wapto,"  in  the  same  way;  others,  who  were 
hopeless  of  such  luck,  were  anxious  for  the  lands  to 
be  set  apart  at  once,  because  each  new-comer  made 
the  chances  less  in  securing  good  homes,  by  being 
crowded  off  to  make  room  for  the  additions  that  such 
events  demanded. 

The  allotment  has  finally  been  made.  The  people 
are  overjoyed,  and  they  start  off  on  this  new  order  of 
life  with  commendable  zeal.  I  have  no  doubt  of  their 
ability  to  maintain  themselves,  when  they  shall  have 
been  admitted  to  the  new  relationships  in  life.  While 
they  have  been  long  in  bondage,  treated  as  depend- 
ents, and  begrudged  the  valley  wherein  they  have 
been  placed  by  the  Government,  they  have,  neverthe- 
less, attained  to  a  status  of  manhood  that  entitles 
them  to  consideration.  They  fully  appreciate  such 
evidences  of  recognition,  and  should  be  consulted  in 
regard  to  the  expenditure  of  their  funds,  the  appoint- 
ment of  agents  and  employes,  the  selection  of 
church  ministries  and  school  teachers. 

During  one  of  my  official  visits  they  assembled  to 
the  number  of  nearly  oiiC  hundred,  and  paraded  on 
horseback,  for  a  grand  demonstration.  They  were 
well  dressed,  and  well  mounted  on  good  horses.  After 
performing  various  evolutions,  they  drew  up  in  front 
of  the  agency  office  in  a  half  circle.  The  leader 
then  made  a  speech,  a  portion  of  which  I  copy  here, 
from  the  memoranda  made  at  that  time.  It  was  in 
American  language,  and  began,  "Mr.  Meacham: 
You  our  chief.  We  look  on  you  as  our  father.  We 
show  you  how  we  get  along.  We  think  we  white 
men  now.  We  no  Injuns  now.  We  all  Republicans. 
We  know  'bout  the  big  war.    We  no  Democrats. 


126 


■WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


hH 


One  man  he  live  with  me  —  he  Democrat  —  us  boys 
all  laugh.  He  get  shamed;  he  good  'publican  now. 
These  all  our  horses,  we  work  for  'em.  S'pose  you 
want  us  work  road,  all  right;  s'pose  you  tell  us  pay 
the  tax,  all  right.  Sometime  we  vote  just  like  a  white 
man.  All  right.  S'pose  the  President  want  soldier, 
we  are  white  men;  we  know  all  about  everything;  we 
can  fight.  We  are  not  boys;  we  know  about  law. 
That's  all  right. 

"  We  want  to  hear  you  talk.  You  talk  all  the  same ; 
you  talk  to  white  men.  Some  of  these  people  don't 
understand,  we  tell  them;  you  go  ahead,  talk  all  the 
time ;"  meaning  I  should  make  a  speech  without  wait- 
ing to  have  it  interpreted. 

I  felt  then  that  I  was  their  servant.  The  Govern- 
ment was  paying  me  for  my  time,  and  whatever  of 
ability  I  might  have.  I  was  not  there  to  make  a  hur- 
ried call,  and  go  away  without  doing  them  good. 

My  remarks  were,  substantially,  that  I  was  glad  to 
see  them  appear  so  much  like  white  men;  that  the 
Government  would  give  them  lands,  and  would  do 
right  by  them.  A  few  years  ago,  a  great  many  black 
people  were  slaves;  now  everybody  is  free.  Every 
man  is  counted  by  his  sense  and  conduct,  not  by  his 
color.  You  men  are  almost  white  in  your  habits. 
You  are  doing  well ;  you  have  made  a  good  start. 
After  the  land  is  allotted,  you  will  each  have  a  home, 
and  in  four  years  the  treaty  will  be  dead ;  then  you 
can  come  up  with  the  white  man.  You  will  pay  taxes 
and  vote. 

Dave  said:  "  There  is  something  else  we  want  you 
to  talk  about.  Some  of  us  Injuns  are  Catholic;  some 
of  us  are  not.     The  Catholics  don't  want  to  go  to  the 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATn. 


127 


other  meetings.  They  don't  talk  all  the  same.  We 
want  to  understand  about  this  religion." 

The  agency  was^  at  that  time,  under  the  supervis- 
ion of  the  Methodist  Church.  A  Catholic  priest  had 
been  laboring  with  these  people  for  many  years,  and 
had  baptized  a  large  number  of  them. 

The  assignment  of  agencies  was  made  without 
proper  knowledge  of  the  religious  antecedents  of  the 
people.  Many  of  them  had  been,  from  time  to  time, 
under  the  teaching  of  other  churches,  especially  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  They  had  also  formed 
their  ideas  from  association  with  the  farmers,  for 
whom  they  had  worked  at  various  times.  I  realized 
then,  as  I  have  often  done,  the  very  embarrassing  cir- 
cumstances that  surrounded  the  subject. 

If  I  have  ever  doubted  the  feasibility  of  the  church 
policy,  it  was  because  no  well-defined  regulations 
were  ever  made.  Regarding  these  matters  it  is  a  doubt- 
ful question  which  of  the  churches  named  had  prior- 
ity of  right  to  minister  to  the  people  of  Grand  Round 
Agency.  Though  the  Catholics  had  been  many  years 
among  them,  the  Methodists  had,  at  an  earlier  date, 
taught  them  in  matters  pertaining  to  religion. 

I  fully  realized  the  importance  of  Dave's  request, 
and  so  deferred  action  until  the  Catholic  father  could 
be  summoned.  Father  Waller,  one  of  the  early  found- 
ers of  Methodist  missions  in  Oregon,  was  present. 
When  the  former  arrived,  the  subject  was  again 
brought  up.  In  the  mean  time,  however,  a  new  ques- 
tion arose,  and  an  incident  occurred  worthy  of  a  place 
in  this  connection. 

The  habits  of  these  people  are  their  lives  really, 
and  when  an  old  custom-  is  abolished,  the  substitute 


)  1 


128 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


may  be  clumsily  introduced,  and  not  well  understood. 
I  refer  to  the  marriage  law.  The  old  way  was  to  buy 
the  girl,  or  make  presents  to  the  parents  until  they 
gave  consent  for  the  marriage.  The  new  order  of 
things  forbade  this  way  of  performing  this  sacred  rite. 

The  hero  of  this  episode  —  Leander  —  was  a  fine, 
handsome  young  fellow,  who  belonged  to  Siletz 
Agency,  and  from  his  agent  had  learned  something 
of  the  working  of  the  law.  Siletz  and  Grand  Round 
Agencies  are  within  one  day's  ride. 

The  heroine  —  Luc^^  —  lived  on  the  latter,  with  her 
parents,  who  ^yere  "  Umpyuas." 

Leander  had  obtained  a  pass  —  permission  —  from 
his  agent,  stating  the  object  of  the  visit,  and  had  been 
well  drilled  in  regard  to  his  :'ights  under  the  "  new 
law."  He  had  proposed,  and,  so  far  as  the  girl's  con- 
sent was  concerned,  been  accepted.  But  the  parents 
of  Lucy  could  not  be  so  easily  conciliated. 

It  is  true  they  had  assented  to  the  new  law,  but 
were  reluctant  to  see  Lucy  marry  a  man,  and  go  away 
to  another  agency  to  live.  I  think,  however,  the  ab- 
sence of  presents  had  something  to  do  with  their 
reluctance.  Leander  had  promised  his  agent  that  he 
would  stand  by  the  new  law,  —  make  no  presents  to 
the  parents. 

The  "  old  folks  "  founded  their  objection  on  other 
grounds  when  submitting  the  case  for  settlement. 
Leander  requested  a  private  interview  with  me.  He 
then  stated  that  he  was  willing  to  pacify  the  old  folks 
by  making  a  present  or  two,  if  he  thought  Mr.  Simp- 
son would  not  find  out  about  it.  He  declared  he  never 
would  return  to  Siletz  without  Lucy;  said  he  thought 
she  was  a  good  young  cluohman;  he  loved  her  bet- 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


129 


ter  than  any  on  Siletz.  She  is  stout;  she  can  work; 
she  can  keep  house  like  a  white  woman.  She  is  no 
squaw.  I  want  her  mighty  bad.  You  s'pose  you  can 
fix  it  all  right?  I  don't  want  them  old  folks  mad  at 
me.  They  say  if  she  goes  away  now  she  get  no  land. 
Can't  she  get  land  at  Siletz?  They  don't  care  for  her. 
They  want  some  ictas  (presents) ;  they  want  me  to 
wait  until  you  give  the  land;  that's  what  they  want." 

I  promised  to  arrange  the  matter  for  him  somehow, 
although  I  could  see  the  difficulties  that  embarrassed 
the  marriage,  as  indicated  by  Leander's  talk. 

Had  the  allotment  of  lands  been  made,  no  objec- 
tions would  have  been  had  on  that  score.  The  father 
and  mother  called  upon  me,  wishing  advice.  Grand 
Kound  was,  at  this  time,  without  a  general  agent,  and 
was  running  in  charge  of  a  special  agent,  —  Mr.  S.  D. 
Khinehart;  hence  the  duties  of  an  agent  were  de- 
volved upon  the  superintendents,  and  one  of  the 
important  duties  is  to  hear  the  complaints,  and  adjust 
all  matters  of  difference. 

The  "  old  folks  "  were  much  excited  over  this  affair 
of  their  daughter  Lucy,  who  had,  as  her  white  sisters 


sometimes  do. 


given  evidence  of  her 


interest  in  the 


question,  by  declaring  she  would  marry  Leander,  and 
possibly  said  something  equivalent  to  the  "  there  now  " 
of  a  spoiled  girl. 

They  were  much  affected.  The  father's  chief  ob- 
jection, I  think,  was  to  prospective  loss  of  ten  acres 
of  land  ;  the  mother's,  the  companionship  and  ser- 
vices of  her  daughter,  added  to  a  mother's  anxiety 
for  the  welfare  of  her  child.  She  shed  some  real 
tears,  woman-like. 

The  father  said,  when  he  would  wake  up  in  the 


I 


130 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


i« 


morning  and  call  "  Lucy,"  she  could  not  hear  him, 
and  that  he  would  be  comi)elled  to  go  for  his  horso 
when  he  wanted  to  ride.  Lucy  had  always  done  that 
kind  of  work  for  him. 

The  confei'cnce  was  protracted,  for  I  recognized  in 
this  affair  a  precedent  that  might  be  of  gi'eat  impor- 
tance to  the  Indians  of  Grand  Hound  Agency  here- 
after. I  foresee,  in  the  future,  some  stony-hearted 
Indian  hater,  scowling  while  he  reads  this  mention  of 
sentiment  and  feeling  on  the  part  of  Indians.  Scowl 
on,  you  cold-blooded,  one-sided,  pale-face,  protected 
in  your  life,  your  rights,  and  even  your  affections,  by 
a  great,  strong  Government! 

Finally,  all  the  parties  interested  were  taken  into 
the  council.  The  mother  put  some  pertinent  ques- 
tions to  Leander. 

"Do  you  ever  drink  whiskey?  Do  you  gamble? 
Will  you  Avhip  Lucy  when  you  are  mad?  Will  you 
let  her  come  to  see  me  when  she  wants  to?  " 

Leander's  answers  were  satisfactory,  and,  I  think, 
sincere.  He  promised,  as  many  a  white  boy  has  to 
his  sweetheart's  mother,  what  he  would  not  have  done 
to  a  mother-in-law.  That  relationship  changes  the 
courage,  and  loosens  the  tongue  of  many  a  man. 

Lucy  was  not  slow  to  speak  her  mind  on  the  sub- 
ject. "Leander,  Clat-a-wa-o-koke-Sun-Silet^.  E-li- 
he,  hi-ka-tum-tum,  ni-ak-clut-a-wa.  (Leander  goes 
to  Silctz,  my  heart  will  go  with  him,  to-day.)  Ni- 
ka-wake-clut-or-wa-niker,  min-a-lous.  "If  I  don't 
go,  I  will  die."     This  settled  the  question. 

Being  the  fu'st  marriage  under  the  new  law,  it  was 
decided  to  make  it  a  precedent  that  would  have  proper 
influence  on  subsequent  weddings.     The  ladies  resi- 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATH. 


131 


dent  at  the  agency,  were  informed  of  the  affair,  and 
requested  to  assist  the  bride  in  making  preparations 
for  the  ceremony. 

Leander  was  well  dressed,  but  be  required  some 
drilling.  Dr.  Hall,  the  resident-physician,  assumed 
the  Vatik,  and  calling  two  or  three  boys  and  girls  to 
the  office,  the  ceremony  was  rehearsed  until  Leander 
said,  "  That's  good.  I  understand  how  to  get  mar- 
ried." 

The  people  came  together  to  witness  the  marriage. 
The  men  remounted  their  horses,  and  formed  in  a  half 
circle  in  front  of  the  office,  women  and  children  within 
the  arc,  all  standing.  The  porch  in  front  of  the 
office  was  the  altar.  Father  Waller,  with  his  long 
white  hair  floating  in  the  wind,  stood  with  Bible  in 
hand.  A  few  moments  of  stillness,  and  then  the 
office  door  opened,  and  Leander  stepped  out  with 
Lucy's  hand  in  his. 

The  doctor  had  arranged  for  bridesmaids  and  grooms- 
men. As  they  filed  out  into  the  sunlight,  every  eye 
was  fixed  on  the  happy  couple.  The  attendants  were 
placed  in  proper  position,  and  then  the  voice  of  Father 
Waller  broke  the  silence  in  an  extempore  marriage 
service.  Leander  and  Lucy  were  pronounced  man 
and  wife,  and,  the  white  people  leading  off,  the  whole 
company  passed  before  the  married  pair  and  offered 
congratulations. 

Great  was  the  joy,  and  comical  the  scene.  One  of 
the  customs  of  civilized  life  was  omitted,  that  of  kiss- 
ing the  bride.  Father  Waller  could  not,  consistently^ 
set  the  example,  the  doctor  would  not,  and,  since  no 
white  man  led  the  way,  the  Indian  boys  remained  in 
ignorance  of  their  privilege. 


t  I 


if 


m'  i 


iy 


132 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


m^] 


The  horsemen  dismounted  and  paid  the  honor  due, 
each  following  the  exact  model,  and  if  one  white  man 
had  kissed  the  bride,  every  Indian  man  on  the  agency 
would  have  done  likewise. 

One  young  roan  asked  the  bridegroom  ir  Indian, 
"Con-chu-me-si-ua-ka-tum-tum? "  ("How  is  your 
heart  now?")  "I^ow-wit-ka-close-tum-tum-tum-ni- 
ka."  ("  My  heart  is  happy  now.")  I  have  witnessed 
such  affairs  among  white  people,  and  I  tliirxk  that  I 
have  not  seen  any  happier  couple  than  Leander  and 
Lucy. 

The  dance,  in  confirmation  of  the  event,  was  well 
attended.  It  being  out  of  Father  Waller's  walk  in 
life,  and  my  own  also,  Ave  did  not  participate  in  the 
amusement.  But  we  looked  on  a  few  moments,  and 
were  surprised  to  see  the  women  and  girls  dressed  in 
style,  somewhat  grotesque,  'tis  true,  but  all  in  fashion; 
indeed,  in  several  fashions. 

Some  oi  them  wore  enormous  hoops,  others  long 
trails,  all  of  them  bright-hued  ribbons  in  their  hair. 
Some  with  chignons,  frizzles,  rats,  and  all  the  other 
paraphernalia  of  ladies'  head-gear.  The  men  were 
clad  in  ordinary  white  man's  garb,  except  that  anti- 
quated coats  am"",  vests  were  more  the  rule  than  the 
exception.  Black  shining  boots  and  wh:>e  collars 
were  there.  A  few  had  gloves, — some  buckskin,  some 
woollen;  others  wore  liuge  rings;  but,  taken  all  in  all, 
the  ball  would  have  compared  favorably  vith  others 
more  pretentious^  in  point  of  style,  and  even  elegance. 

These  people  were  apt  scholars  in  this  feature  of 
civilization.  The  music  on  the  occasion  was  fur- 
nished by  Indian  men,  with  violins.    Few  people  arc 


WIGWAM  AND  WARIaTH. 


133 


more  mirthful,  or  enter  with  more  zest  into  sports, 
when  circumstances  are  favorable,  than  do  Indians. 

The  day  following  the  wedding,  a  general  council, 
or  meeting,  was  held.  Father  AYaller  of  the  Meth- 
odist, and  Father  Croystel  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
being  -x^rcsent,  the  subject  of  religion  was  taken  up 
and  discussed.  The  facts  elicited  were,  that  many 
of  the  Indians,  perhaps  a  majority,  were  in  favor  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  The  i-tmainder  were  in  favor 
of  the  Methodist,  a  few  only  appearing  indifferent. 

Neither  of  the  fathers  took  part  in  the  "talks." 
My  own  opinio  i,  expressed  then  and  since,  on  other 
occasions,  was,  that  the  greatest  liberty  of  conscience 
should  be  allowed  in  religious  practice.  That  the 
people  should  honoi-  all  religions  that  were  Christian. 
'No  bitter  feelings  were  exhibited.  I  attended,  at  other 
times,  the  Catholic  Church  exerdses,  conducted  by 
lilev.  Father  Croystel.  The  Indians  came  in  large 
numbers,  some  of  them  on  horses,  but  the  majority 
in  wagons;  whole  families,  cleanly  clad  and  well 
behaved. 

Those  who  belonged  to  the  Catholic  Church  were 
devout,  and  assisted  the  father  in  the  ceremonies  and 
responses.  The  invitation  was  extended  to  any  and 
all  denominations  to  preach;  on  one  occasion  a  min- 
ister came  by  invitation,  and  preached  in  the  office. 
The  attendance  was  not  large,  but  the  employes  of 
the  agency  monopolized  all  the  available  benches. 
They  seemed  to  think  that  the  Indians  had  no  rights. 
The  proachc'  began  his  discourse,  and,  after  dilating 
on  the  word  of  God,  with  a  prosy  effort  to  explain 
some  abstruse  proposition  in  theology,  for  half  an 
hour,  my  patience  became  exhausted,  and  I  arose  and 


134 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


made  the  suggestion  that,  since  the  meeting  was  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Indians,  something  should  be  said 
which  they  might  understand.  More  seats  were  pro- 
vided, and  the  preacher  started  anew,  and  when  a 
sentence  wa«!  uttered  that  was  within  the  comprehen- 
sion of  those  for  whom  the  preaching  was  intended, 
it  was  translated.  This  meeting,  however,  did  not  do 
them  very  much  good,  because  it  was  not  conducted 
in  a  way  that  was  understood  by  the  Indians. 

The  man  who  was  trying  to  do  good  had  undoubt- 
edly answered  when  some  one  else  had  been  called 
of  God  to  preach  the  gospel.  He  would,  perhaps, 
have  made  a  passable  mechanic,  but  he  had  no  quali- 
1  3ations  for  preaching  to  Indians.  He  was  not  human 
enough.  He  was  too  well  educated.  He  knew  too 
much.  Kad  he  been  less  learned,  or  possessed  more 
common  sense,  he  might  have  been  competent  to  teach 
great  grown-up  children,  as  these  Indian  people  are, 
in  the  Christian  religion. 

A  short  colloquy  overheard  between  two  of  the  red 
children  he  had  been  preaching  to  would  have  set 
him  to  thinking.  The  talk  was  in  the  Indian  lan- 
guage, but,  translated,  would  have  run  in  about  the 
following  style :  — 

"  Do  you  understand  what  all  that  talk  was  about?" 
—  "]N"o;  do  you?  Well,  he  was  talking  wicked  half 
the  time,  and  good  half  the  time.  He  was  telling 
about  a  man  getting  lost  a  long  time  ago.  Got  lost 
and  didn't  find  himself  for  forty  years.  That's  a  big 
story,  but  maybe  it  is  so.  I  don't  know.  !N^ever  heard 
of  it  before." 

I  need  not  say  to  the  reader,  that  this  minister  had 
been  preaching  about  Moses.     Perhaps  he  was  not  to 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


135 


be  cenbured.  He  may  have  done  the  best  he  could. 
He  did  not  know  how  to  reach  an  Indian's  heart. 

The  schools  at  this  agency  were  not  flourishing. 
The  reason  was  that  the  mode  was  impracticable. 
Schools  were  taught  with  about  as  much  sense  and 
judgment  as  the  preaching  just  referred  to. 

After  several  years  of  stupid  experimenting,  at  an 
expense  of  many  thousands  of  dollars,  there  was  not 
among  these  Indians  half  a  dozen  of  them  who  could 
read  and  understand  a  common  newspaper  notice. 
The  fault  was  not  with  the  pupils ;  it  was  the  system. 

The  Indians  of  this  agency  are  farther  advanced 
than  those  of  any  others  in  Oregon,  in  everything 
that  goes  to  make  up  a  civilized  people.  They  have, 
since  the  allotment  of  lands,  made  rapid  progress, 
and  bid  fair  to  become  rivals  of  other  people  in  the 
pursuit  of  wealth,  and  other  characteristics  that  make 
a  people  prosperous.  Some  of  them  are  already  the 
equals  of  their  white  neighbors  in  integrity  of  char- 
acter and  business  tact.  They  have  abandoned  their 
old  laws  and  customs,  and  have  been  working  under 
civil  laws.  They  elect  officers  and  hold  courts,  some- 
what after  the  manner  of  a  mock  Legislature ;  in  other 
words,  they  are  practising  and  rehearsing,  in  antici- 
pation of  the  time  when  they  shall  become  citizens. 

Like  all  other  races,  they  learn  the  vices  much 
quicker  than  the  virtues  of  their  superiors.  It  cannot 
be  denied  that  they  follow  bad  examples  sometimes, 
especially  intemperance;  but  when  considered  fairly, 
taking  note  of  the  influences  that  have  been  thrown 
around  them ;  the  many  different  agents,  and  kinds  of 
policies  under  which  they  have  lived;  the  fact  that 
they  were  wild  Indians  sixteen  years  ago;  that  they 


136 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


mt 


have  been  kept  in  constant  fear  of  being  removed; 
hope  deferred  so  often  and  so  long;  that  they  were 
remnants  of  many  small  tribes;  that  their  numbers 
have  decreased  so  rapidly,  —  then  tV'ij  stand  out  in  a 
new  light,  and  challenge  commendation. 

Lift  your  heads,  Indians  of  Grand  Round  I  you  are 
no  longer  slaves ;  you  are  free. 

This  agency,  with  the  people  who  are  the^e  now, 
and  wlio  have  been  there  as  Government  officers  and 
employes,  would  furnish  material  foi'  volumes  of  real 
live  romance;  racy  stories,  sad  tales,  great  privationy, 
disease,  death  and  suffering  make  up  the  history  of 
such  places.  'No  character  required  to  make  a  thrill- 
ing drama,  a  bloody  tragedy,  or  comic  personality, 
would  be  wanting.  Better  live  only  in  tradition,  or 
fireside  story,  than  in  printed  page.  The  latter  would 
embarrass  men  who  h  ave  passed  through  some  of  the 
chairs  of  office,  and  poor  fellows,  too,  who  have 
sponged  a  living  off  of  "Uncle  Sam,"  and  cheated 
the  people  of  thousands  of  dollars,  and  months  of 
labor,  that  they  were  paid  for  doing.  Let  the  history 
die  untold,  since  it  could  not  restore  justice  to  either 
Government  or  people.  Some  of  those  who  have 
administered  on  Grand  Round  Agency  have  left  the 
Indians  in  much  better  condition  than  they  found 
them,  and  will  live  forever  in  the  memory  of  those 
they  served  so  faithfully. 

Before  leaving  this  agency  I  would  state  one  feat- 
ure of  Indian  life  that  exists  everywhere,  but  it  is 
less  prominent  on  this  than  other  agencies. 

I  refer  to  the  poor  and  the  old.  Perhaps  the  last 
Christian  virtue  that  finds  lodgment  in  Indian  liearts 
is  regard  or  reverence  for  age,  especially  old  women. 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


137 


They  are  drudges  everywhere,  and  when  too  -^Id  to 
labor  are  sometimes  neglected. 

Poor,  miserable-look' ug  old  women,  blind,  lame, 
and  halt,  charity  would  shed  more  tears  at  your 
death  than  your  children  would.  "While  this  deplor- 
able indifference  for  them  exists  to  a  fearful  extent, 
there  are  notable  exceptions,  particularly  among  the 
Grand  Round  Indians.  In  every  council  they  were 
found  standing  up  and  pleading  for  something  to  be 
done  for  the  old  and  poor.  These  old  creatures 
nearly  always  hobble  to  the  meetings,  and  although 
they  seem  fair  specimens  of  the  Darwinian  theory,  they, 
nevertheless,  have  feelings  and  gratitude  even  for 
small  favors.  A  grasp  of  the  hand  seems  to  impart  a 
ray  of  sunshine  to  their  benighted  faces. 

A  few  years  more,  and  all  the  old  ones  will  be  gone, 
and  their  successors  will  take  the  vacant  places  with 
prospects  of  more  humane  treatment  than  they  have 
hitherto  received. 

Heaven  pity  the  poor  and  old,  for  man  has  little 
for  them  that  casts  even  a  glimmer  of  hope,  save  on 
their  waiting  tombs ! 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THE  AGED  PAIR  —  BIRTHPLACE  OF  LEGENDS. 


The  scene  changes,  and  we  stand  on  the  deck  of  a 
river  steamer  with  its  prow  pointed  eastward. 

For  hours  we  have  steamed  along  in  the  shadows 
of  the  Cascade  mountains,  through  deep,  dark  can- 
ons, with  walls  so  high  that  the  smoke-stack  of  our 
little  boat  seemed  like  a  pipe-stem.  "  Puny  thing  "  it 
is.  Yet  it  bears  us  over  boiling  eddies  and  up  rapids 
that  shoot  between  high  rocks  like  immense  streams 
of  silver  from  the  great  furnace  of  creation. 

We  are  startled  at  the  sound  of  the  whistle  on  our 
deck,  and  grow  anxious  when  the  nearest  canon 
answers  back,  rnd  still  another  takes  up  the  sound, 
and  the  echo  tu/ns  to  its  original  starting-point,  and 
finds  its  own  ofispring  talking  back  in  fainter  voice, 
until  it  dies  away  like  the  rumbling  of  some  fast- 
retreating  train  rushing  through  the  open  field  or 
wooded  glens. 

Soon  we  are  on  board  the  thundering  train,  whirl- 
ing away  toward  the  upper  cascades,  swinging  around 
curves  and  beneath  ledges,  and  overhanging  the 
rushing  floods  hundreds  of  feet  below.  As  we  fly 
swiftly  along,  the  conductor,  or  some  one  familiar 
with  this  cascade  country,  points  out  the  battle- 
grounds where  the  red  men  fought  white  men  for 
their  homes.  The  battle  w^as  a  fierce  one,  and  lasted 
several  days,  when  the  Indians  withdrew. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


139 


There  are  traditions  yet  among  Indians  and  white 
settlers;  and  it  is  related  that  in  former  times  the 
Indians  who  lived  along  the  banks  of  the  Columbia 
were  employed  to  assist  the  white  men  in  transporting 
goods  over  the  portages  (or  carrying  places),  and 
they  were  ill-treated  by  their  employers,  and  their 
rights  disregarded. 

The  invasion  of  the  country  was  not  the  most 
grievous  complaint.  They  were  furnished  whiskey, 
were  debauched,  and  corrupted  as  a  people,  until  vir- 
tue was  unknown  among  their  women;  the  men 
themselves  selling  their  wives  and  daughters  for  the 
basest  purposes.  Degraded,  polluted,  and  in  despair, 
they  sought  to  wreak  vengeance  on  their  seducers. 

If  those  who  debased  them  were  the  only  victims, 
no  just  condemnation  could  be  pronounced  against 
them. 

There  is  a  feeling  of  respect  for  the  man,  though  a 
savage  he  may  be,  who  defends  his  home,  and  resents 
imposition  even  at  the  risk  of  life.  But  humanity  re- 
volts against  the  butchery  of  innocent  persons,  no 
matter  what  the  color  may  be,  or  the  cause  of  provo- 
cation of  race  against  race. 

A  few  survivors  of  the  Cascade  tribes  may  be  found 
now  on  Warm  Springs  and  Yak-a-ma  agencies. 

The  traveller  on  the  Columbia  meets,  occasionally, 
a  man  and  his  family,  still  lingering  around  their  old 
homes,  living  in  bark-covered  huts,  sometimes  em- 
ployed in  laboring  for  the  Steam  !N^avigation  Com- 
pany, who  transport  the  commerce  that  passes  through 
the  mountain  at  this  point.  These  stragglers  are 
poor,  miserably  degraded  savages,  and  are  not  fair 
specimens  of  their  race. 


140 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


An  old  Indian  legend  connected  with  the  Cascades 
has  been  repeated  to  tourists  over  and  over  again.  It 
has  been  written  in  verse,  in  elegant  style  and  forceful 
expression,  by  S.  A.  Clark,  Esq.,  of  Salem,  Oregon, 
published  in  February  number  of  Harper's  Magazine 
for  1874.  The  poem  is  worthy  of  perusal,  and  ought 
to  make  the  author's  fame  as  a  poet. 

The  substance  of  the  legend  is  to  the  effect,  that 
many,  many  years  ago,  before  the  eyes  of  the  pale- 
faces had  gazed  on  the  wonders  of  the  Cascades,  the 
river  was  bridged  by  a  span  of  mountains,  beneath 
which  it  passed  to  the  ocean;  that  to  this  bridge  the 
children  of  Mount  Hood  on  the  south,  and  those  of 
Mount  Adams  on  the  north,  made  yearly  pilgi'image, 
to  worship  the  Great  Spirit,  and  exchange  savage 
courtesies,  and  to  lay  in  stores  of  fish  for  winter  use. 
The  Great  Spirit  blessed  them,  and  they  came  and 
went  for  generations  untold. 

They  tell  how  the  exchange  of  friendship  con- 
tinued, until  at  length  a  beautiful  maiden,  who  had 
been  chosen  for  a  priestess,  was  wooed  and  won  by  a 
haughty  Indian  brave  of  another  tribe.  On  her  with- 
drawal from  the  office  her  people  became  indignant, 
and  demanded  her  return.  This  was  refused,  and 
when,  on  their  annual  visit,  they  came  frorn  the  north 
and  from  the  south,  bitter  quarrels  ensued,  until,  at 
last,  fierce  wars  raged,  and  the  rock  spanning  the 
river  became  a  battle-ground.  Soch-a-la  tyee  —  God 
—  was  vexed  at  the  children,  and  caused  the  bridge  to 
fall.  Thus  he  separated  them,  and  bade  each  abide 
where  he  had  placed  them. 


of  these 


The  legend  still  lives  fresh  in  the  memory 
Indians,  and  they  respect  the  command.    Few  have 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATII. 


lU 


changed  their  residences.  The  ragged  mountains  on 
either  side  support  well  the  historic  tale.  High,  bald 
summits  stand  confronting  each  other,  and  it  requires 
no  effort  of  the  imagination  to  see  the  Great  Bridge 
as  it  is  said  once  to  have  stood,  and  to  hear  rising  on 
the  winds,  the  weird,  wild  songs  of  the  people  at  the 
time  of  sacrifice. 

At  the  place  where  this  legend  had  its  origin  the 
"  Columbia  "  is  crowded  by  its  banks  into  so  narrow 
a  channel  that  an  Indian  might,  with  his  sling,  make 
a  stone  to  trace  the  curves  of  the  ancient  arch.  The 
waters  rush  so  swiftly  that  the  keenest  sight  can 
scarcely  keep  the  course  of  timber  drift  in  view. 
The  river's  bosom  is  smooth  above  this  rapid  flow, 
and,  widening,  takes  the  semblance  of  a  lake,  in 
whose  depth  may  be  seen  the  trees  that  once  were 
growing  green,  but  now  to  stone  have  turned;  they 
never  move  before  the  breeze ;  they  sway  not,  nor  yet 
can  yield  to  the  gentle  currents,  still  standing  wit- 
nesses of  the  legend's  truth. 

Midway  between  the  shores  an  island  stands,  fash- 
ioned and  fitted  for  a  burial-ground  of  the  tribes  that 
had  oft,  in  ages  past,  made  use  of  it  at  nature's  invi- 
tation, and  had  borne  to  this  resting-place  the  war- 
riors whose  spirits  passed  up  to  the  happier  lands; 
while  the  body  resting  here  might  wait  for  the  com- 
ing of  some  Gieat  rrophet,  vvho  should  bid  the  bones 
to  rise  and  become  part  and  parcel  of  human  forms, 
and  mingle  with  those  who  remain  to  build  the 
nightly  fires  and  feed  the  mouldering  bodies  of  their 
dead,  until  the  great  past  should  be  re-born  and  live 
again  attended  by  all  the  circumstances  of  savage 
life. 


142 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


IP 


Sittinp:  in  the  pilot-house  of  the  steamer  "Tenino," 
beside  "McXulty,"  her  captain,  hear  him  tell  how 
these  peoi)le  ti.me,  at  certain  times,  to  pay  honor  to 
their  dead;  how,  in  years  gone  by,  from  the  "Tenino" 
he  could  see  the  old  sachems  sitting  bolt  upi-ight  in 
their  woovlon  graves  and  calmly  waiting,  watching, 
with  sightless  eyes,  for  t]ie  coming  hour  foretold  be- 
fore they  died;  how,  with  fleshless  hands,  they 
clutched  the  rotting  handle  of  the  battle-axe  of  flint 
or  lishing-spears. 

Then  see  his  eye  kindle  while  he  tells  you  of  relic- 
hunters  from  the  East,  who  came  on  board  the 
"  Tenino  "  Avith  boA'5s  and  lines  and  other  devices  for 
relic-hunting,  and  requested  that  he  won!  land  them 
on  the  shores  of  this  lone  island.  You  will  feel  the 
fire  of  that  eye  warming  your  heart  towards  the  dead, 
and  living  too,  when  it  declares  in  full  sympathy,  with 
the  rich  Irish  voice,  "  That  while  he  commands  the 
'Tenino'  no  gravc-rohhers  shall  ever  disturb  the  old 
heroes  who  sit  patiently  waiting  for  their  resurrection. 
No  sacrilegious  foot  shall  leave  his  vessel's  deck  to 
perpetrate  so  foul  a  deed !  " 

You  will  honor  him  still  better  when  you  learn  that, 
in  his  whole-hearted  generosity,  he  declares  that  "  JS^o 
man  shall  ever  disturb  the  repose  of  the  congregated 
dead,  on  that  little  island,  wdiile  he  lives,  and  escape 
unpunished." 

Brave,  fearless  captain,  many  years  have  you  passed 
daily  in  sight,  and  scanned  their  sej)ulchres;  self- 
appointed  guardian,  you  have  been  true  to  the  impulse 
of  a  noble  heart;  you  have  exalted  our  opinion  of  the 
race  you  represent;  and  for  your  fidelity  to  the  cause 
of  a  common  humanity,  and  especially  to  the  race 


m  ■ 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


1  Vt 


i 


whose  dark  faces  seldom  li<^ht  iij)  from  rcco<2:niti()n  by 
t'.  osc  whose  power  has  been  but  the  destruction  of 
their  own,  do  we  thank  you. 

May  many  winters  come  and  go  before  their  snows 
shall  bring  to  you  old  age;  and  when,  at  last,  the 
"  Tenino  "  shall  be  laid  aside,  may  yon  still  be  guar- 
dian of  this  spot,  so  sacred  to  many  a  sad  and 
hopeless  heart. 

Leaving  behind,  on  our  upward  jourr'^'y,  the  burial- 
ground  of  the  moiiiitain  tribes,  in  charge  of  the 
ftiithful  Mc^ulty,  wc  pass  beneath  high  rock  cliiTs, 
sometimes  near  beautiful  valleys,  with  farm  cottages 
and  lowing  cattle  on  hill-side  pastures.  Through 
the  deep  cafions  that  cut  the  table  mountains  in 
twain,  as  if  made  on  purjjose  for  tourists'  delight, 
Mount  Hood,  the  father  mountain,  comes  suddenly  in 
view;  the  beauty  much  enhanced  when  seen  through 
nature's  telescope,  made  by  rifts  in  solid  rocks,  with 
sky-lights  reaching  to  the  stars  above.  "Words  may 
not  give  even  a  faint  outline  of  the  scene.  Mc^N^ulty, 
though  for  years  he  has  gazed  on  this  sublime  paint- 
ing, —  at  morning,  when  the  shadows  cover  the  tele- 
scope, but  light  the  mountain  up;  and  at  evening, 
too,  when  both  were  shaded,  —  sees  new  beauties  at 
every  sight;  and,  not  content  to  worship  all  alone,  he 
rings  his  call  to  the  engineer,  and  the  vessel  slackens 
her  speed,  and  "rounds  to"  in  proper  place,  while 
the  captain  calls  his  guests  to  the  grandest  l)anquet 
that  earth  aifords,  and  points  out  the  beauties  as  each 
one  paints  the  panorama  on  his  soul. 

See,  there  the  old  Fathcir  Hood  stands,  with  his 
wreath  of  snow,  which  he  has  worn  since  the  time 
when  man  was  i.aiknown.     Sometimes  he  hides  his 


146 


WIG>VAJI    AXD   AVAKrATir. 


'¥  iifiW  ■•'1:1  ■ 


Ell  I 


tlitf^' 


ii^l 


hoary  head  in  clouds,  iiiiwilHng  to  witness  the  injus- 
tice done  the  puny  children  who  have  played  around 
his  feet  for  generations  past.  We  see  his  own  sons, 
still  in  primeval  manhood,  with  heads  crowned  with 
fir  or  laurel,  standing*  at  his  side  and  looking  up,  are 
ever  read}^  to  bear  the  winter's  burdei<3  that  from  his 
shoulders  fall. 

Again  w^c  glide  on  the  smootl'  surface  of  the  shin- 
ing river  until  wc  hear  repeated  the  captain's  call  to 
witness  now  how  impartial  God  has  been,  and  to  pre- 
vent any  jealousy  that  might  arise,  has  made  on  the 
other  shore,  looking  northward,  twin  telescope  to  the 
first,  and  twin  mountain,  too,  for  now  we  see  another 
hoary  head,  rich  in  clustered  snow-banks  that  orna- 
ment her  b'  ow.  Mother  Adams  stands  calmly  over- 
looking her  daughters,  who  modestly  wear  garlands 
of  wild  wood-vines,  and  heavy-topped  fragrant  cedars. 
She  feels  her  solitude,  and  when  "  Hood  "  drawS  his 
mantle  over  his  majestic  shoulder,  she,  too,  puts  on 
a  silvery  veil  of  misty  wreath,  or,  in  seeming  anger, 
drapes  in  mourning  and  weeps;  the  deluge  of  her 
tears  giving  signs  of  Avillingness  tr  make  fi'iends 
again.  And  then  these  two  old  mouiitains  smile  and 
nod,  and  looking  above  the  clouds  that  covered  the 
heads  of  younger  ones,  they,  giants  in  solitude,  be- 
come reconciled.  The  lesser  ones  then  peep  through 
the  rising  mist,  and  siiiile  to  catch  their  estranged 
parents  making  up. 

Leaving  these  grand  scenes,  the  mountains,  smaller, 
v/^aste  away  into  gentle  hills,  and  we  feel  that  we  have 
passed  the  porfals  of  a  par;  disc,  shut  out  from  ocean 
storms  by  great  barriers  oi'  rocks.  The  river  grows 
narrow,  the  banks  are  perpendicular  walls  of  solid 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


147 


roclvS  of  moderate  height.  Rounding  a  turn  in  the 
river,  suddenly  comes  to  view  "  The  Dalles,"  a  small 
city  near  the  river  brink,  nestling  in  an  amphi- 
theatre, formed  by  curved  walls  of  rocky  blutfs. 
In  times  past  The  DaVes  was  a  starting-point 
for  the  mines  of  Eastern  Oregon  and  Idaho,  and 
was,  also,  the  seat  of  a  United  States  fort.  Its 
streets  have  felt  the  tread  of  mercl.aut  princes,  and 
miners  of  every  grade  and  color;  of  the  tramping  of 
bands  of  Indian  ponies  brought  here  to  be  sold  or  to 
parade  some  red  man's  wealth;  of  heavily  ladened 
wheels  bearing  merchandise. 

Busy  throngs  peopled  then  its  streets,  but  now 
they  are  less  merry;  business  has  taken  long  strides 
toward  surer  success  and  larger  life.  Long  years 
ago  it  was  a  great  resort  for  Indians,  who  came  to 
feast  and  gamble,  and  exchange  captive  slaves. 
Many  old  legends  date  from  this  post,  and  some  of 
thum  are  rich  in  historic  truths ;  others  in  romance  of 
human  lives,  and,  others  still,  of  fairy  tales  and 
ghostly  stories. 

A  few  miles  above  the  city  the  river  passes  between 
almost  perpendicular  walls  of  stone,  while  through 
the  narrow  gorge  the  water  leaps  from  ledge  to  ledge 
in  quick  succession,  making  huge  billows  of  the  rush- 
ing current,  so  rai)id  that  no  steamer  or  canoe  has 
ever  upward  passed,  though  l)oth  have  downward 
been  in  perfect  safety.  At  this  point  the  great 
schools  of  salmon,  on  their  journey  to  the  lakes  and 
smaller  streams,  halt  to  rest,  and  thus  prepare  them- 
selves for  more  severe  struggles  and  more  daring 
feats.  Here  the  red  men  have,  year  after  year,  come 
to  lay  in  supplies  of  salmon. 


i 


IP  i 


I 


ft  ,i- '  '.  ll 

f'l  '<T.l    ■'  ; 

1  ■  lii-l'ti;'" '    i 
>  r 


148 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


These  fisheries  are  of  great  value,  and,  when  the 
Porthind,  Dalles,  and  Salt  Lake  Kailroad  is  com- 
pleted, will  become  sources  of  untold  wealth,  furnish- 
ing Eastern  markets  with  choicest  salmon.  Before 
leaving  this  fishery,  I  would  state,  for  the  information 
of  my  readers,  that  tho  Indians  have  some  peculiar 
ideas  about  salmon.  They  "vun"  at  regular  seasons 
of  the  year,  and  the  Indians  gather  on  the  banks  and 
make  ])reparations  for  catchi^ig  and  preserving  them; 
but  they  do  not  take  the  Jirst  that  come  up,  because 
they  believe  that,  since  the  "Great  Spirit"  furnishes 
them,  they  should  be  permitted  to  pass,  in  his  honor, 
and  because  the  Jirst  that  come  are  8ui)posed  to  be 
bolder,  and  will  succeed  in  getting  to  better  spawn- 


ing-grounds in  higher  streams. 


The  females  always  precede  the  males,  who  follow 
several  weeks  later.  'No  Indian  would  make  use  of 
the  first  fish  caught,  because  of  the  sacrilege.  As 
soon,  however,  as  the  "run"  fairly  begins,  the  Indians, 
in  their  way,  give  thanks,  by  dancing  and  singing. 
The  ceremonies  of  opening  the  fishing  seasons  are 
serious  and  solemn  in  character. 

The  manner  of  taking  salmon  varies.  Sometimes 
they  use  dip  nets,  attached  to  long  poles  resting  in  a 
crotch  or  fork,  or,  maybe,  pile  of  rocks,  as  a  fulcrum. 
Others,  with  spears  made  of  bone,  pointed  at  each 
end.  attached  by  a  strong  cord  of  sinew  at  the  middle 
to  a  shaft  made  of  hard  wood,  with  three  prongs  in 
the  end,  of  each  of  which  a  socket  is  made,  wherein 
one  end  of  the  bone  spear  is  thrust,  the  cord  attach- 
ment being  of  sufficient  length  to  pei'mit  the  escape 
from  the  socket  of  the  spear. 

Thus  equipped  a  fisherman  thrusts  the  three-tined 


WIGWAM   AND    WARPATH. 


149 


spear  into  the  water  at  random,  and  when  a  sail '.on  is 
struck,  the  spear  leaves  the  shaft;  but,  still  secure, 
turns  athwart  the  fish,  and  his  escape  is  impossible. 
"When  he  is  landed  the  fisherman's  work  is  done. 
The  fish  is  turned  over  to  the  women  and  boys,  and 
carried  to  a  convenient  camp,  where  the  work  of  dry- 
ing them  is  performed  by  first  beheading  and  then 
splitting  them  in  two  lengthwise.  They  are  spread 
on  long  scaffolds  built  on  poles,  and  \  dth  occasional 
turning  are  soon  dried  by  the  air  and  sun.  The  aver- 
age weight  of  salmon  at  this  fishing  is  about  fii'teen 
pounds,  though  sometimes  much  greater.  Some  have 
been  taken  weighing  sixty-five  pounds  eacn,  and 
many  of  them  forty  pounds. 

Another  noticeable  f he  t  is  that  the  nearer  the  ocean 
they  are  taken  the  better.  Those  which  succeed  in 
stemming  the  many  rapids  en  route  to  the  head-waters 
are  poor  and  thin,  and  of  little  value.  They  often 
ascend  streams  so  small  that  they  can  be  caught  with 
the  hand.  It  is  doubtful  whether  they  ever  return  to 
the  ocean. 


CI 
1  ■■ 


CHAPTER    X. 


DANGEROUS   PLACE  FOR  SINNERS. 


Leavixg  "  The  Dalles  "  early  one  morning  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1870,  with  Dr.  "VY.  C.  McKay  as  guide,  I  set 
out  on  my  first  visit  to  "Warm  Sj^rings  Agency.  Our 
rouce  was  over  high  grassy  plains,  undulating,  and 
sometimes  broken  by  deep  canons,  occasionally  wide 
enough  to  furnish  extensive  farm  lands.  Tyghe  valley 
is  traversed  by  two  rivers  that  flow  eastward  from  the 
foot  of  the  Cascade  mountains.  It  was,  originally,  a 
very  paradise  for  Indians.  It  is  a  paradise  still ;  but 
not  for  them.  "White  men  wanted  it;"  hence  our 
present  visit  to  Warm  Springs. 

In  1855  the  several  Indian  tribes  occupying  the 
country  east  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  as  far  up  as 
John  Day's,  south  of  the  Columbia  river,  and  north 
of  the  Blue  mountain,  met  in  Treaty  Council  those 
who  had  been  selected  as  the  representatives  of  the 
Government. 

The  Indiant^  confederated,  settling  all  their  diffi- 
culties as  between  different  tribes,  and  also  with  the 
Government.  They  went  into  this  council  to  avoid 
farther  hostilities.  From  Dr.  W.  C.  McK  ly  I  learned 
that  a  body  of  troops  were  present;  that  the  Indians 
insisted  on  Tyghe  valley  as  a  home;  that  the  Govern- 
ment refused,  and   that  the   council   continued   for 


WIOWAISI   A2<T>    WARPATH. 


If)! 


several  days;  that,  finally,  under  threats  and  inthni- 
dations,  the  Indians  agreed  to  accept  a  home  on  what 
is  now  "Warm  Springs  Reservation,"  the  Govern- 
ment agreeing  to  do  certain  things  by  way  of  fur- 
nishing mills,  shops,  schools,  farms,  etc. 

At  this  time  certain  members  of  the  Tenino  band 
were  in  possession  of,  and  had  made  improvements 
of  value  near,  "  The  Dalles."  Under  bpecial  agree- 
ments in  treaty  council  these  improvements  were  to 
be  paid  for  by  the  Government. 

Nineteen  years  have  passed,  and  John  Mission  and 
Billy  Chinook  hove  not  yet  received  one  dollar  for  the 
aforesaid  improvements.  These  men  were  converts 
to  Christianity  under  the  ministration  of  Father 
"Waller  and  others,  who  wei'e  sent  out  by  the  Meth- 
odist Church  as  missionaries.  These  Indians  are  still 
faithful  to  the  vows  then  taken. 

Here  is  a  good  subject  for  some  humane,  senti- 
mental boaster  of  national  justice  to  meditate  upon. 

Had  these  men  broken  their  compact  with  the 
Government,  they  would  have  been  punished;  and, 
had  they  been  like  other  Indians  Avho  have  figured 
in  history,  they  would  have  been  at  last  rewarded; 
not  because  the  Government  is  prompt  to  do  them 
justice,  but  because  they  would  have  compelled  jus- 
tice to  come  to  them,  though  filtered  l)y  blood 
through  the  bones  of  innocent  settlers  and  sweetened 
by  tears  and  groans  of  widows  and  orphans. 

Strong  language  this,  I  admit;  l)ut  history  su])ports 
the  declaration.  For  nineteen  years  liuve  these  two 
huml)le  red-skinned  men  waited  patiently  lor  remu- 
neration; for  nineteen  years  have  they  waited  in  vain. 
Poor  fellows,  I  pity  you!     Had  you  a  vote  to  give, 


mm 


m  . 


m 


,li 


152 


WIGAVAM   AND  AVARPATH. 


if 


your  claim  might  have  been  paid  years  ago.  Then 
some  ambitious  politician,  anxious  to  secure  your 
suffiogc,  would  have  importuned  the  department  at 
"Washington  to  do  you  justice;  and  the  department, 
anxious  for  influence  in  Congress,  would  have  recom- 
mended payment,  and  some  member  would  have 
found  it  to  his  interest  to  "  log-roll "  it  through.  But 
you  are  unfortunate;  you  cannot  vote.  You  are  no 
trouble;  you  are  peaceable  and  faithful,  and  jou  dai'e 
not  now  make  any  noise  about  your  claim.  You  are 
dependent  on  a  Government  that  has  so  much  more 
imi^ortant  business  to  look  out  for,  jou  are  unknown. 

Rebel  once  against  your  masters,  and  millions  would 
be  expended  to  punish  you.  A  few  thousands  would 
make  you  rich,  and  would  redeem  the  honor  of  the  other 
"high  contracting  power."  But  you  will  not  be 
made  glad  now  in  your  old  age,  because  you  are  but 
"  Injuns,"  and  the  good  ones  of  your  people  "  are  all 
under  ground."  So  say  j^oui*  white  brethren,  who 
now  own  what  was  once  your  country.  Be  patient 
still.  The  God, of  whom  you  learned  from  the  lips  of 
the  honored  dead, will  yet  compel  a  nation  of  con- 
querors to  drink  the  bitter  dregs  of  repentance,  and 
though  you  ma}^  never  handle  one  dollar  of  the  money 
due  you,  your  children  may.  And  somewhere  in  the 
future  your  race  may  come  upon  the  plane  where 
manhood  is  honored  without  the  question  of  ancestry 
being  raised. 

Climbing  a  steep  blufi',  going  south  from  Tygh 
valle}',  we  look  out  on  an  extensive  plain,  bordered  by 
mountain  ranges,  facing  us  from  the  further  side. 
Forty  miles  brings  us,  by  hIow  and  ever-increasiug 
easy  grades,  to  the  summit  of  the  plain,  where  the  road 


'J    k'  ■■ 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


153 


leads  down  a  mountain  so  steep,  that  two  com- 
mon-sized horses  cannot  even  manage  a  light  car- 
riage without  rough-locking  the  wheels.  From  the 
starting-point  into  the  chasm  below,  a  small  stream, 
looking  like  a  bright  ribbon  that  was  crumpled  and 
ruffled,  may  be  seen.  Down,  down  we  go.  Down, 
still  down,  until,  standing  on  the  bank  of  Warm 
Springs  river,  we  behold  the  ribbon  transformed  into 
a  rapid  rushing  current  of  snow-water,  whose  very 
clearness  deceives  us  in  respect  to  its  depth.  We 
drive  into  it  at  a  rocky  ford,  and  we  are  soon  startled 
with  the  quick  bi'eathing  of  our  team,  while  the  w^ater 
seems  to  rise  over  their  backs,  and  we,  standing  on 
the  seat,  knee  deep,  encourage  our  horses  to  reach  the 
other  shore. 

For  nineteen  years  has  the  business  of  this  agency 
been  transacted  through  this  current.  AYe  are  on  the 
other  side,  vowing  that  "  Uncle  Sam  "  fuust  and  shall 
have  this  stream  bridged.  So  vowed  oiu'  predecessors, 
and  so  our  successors,  too,  would  have  vowed  had  they 
ever  passed  that  way.  A  few  miles  from  the  crossing 
and  near  our  road  we  see  steam  ascending,  as  if  some 
subterranean  monster  was  cooking  his  supper  and  had 
ujiset  his  kettle  on  the  fires  where  it  is  supposed 
wicked  people  go.  The  nearer  we  came  to  the  caldron 
till'  more  we  were  convinced  that  our  conjectures  were 
correct,  and  stronger  was  our  resolve  to  keep  away  from 
such  ])laces.  Hi'inistone  in  moderate  quantities  scat- 
tered along  the  banks  of  this  stream  adds  to  our  anxiety 
to  reach  a  meeting-house,  where  we  may  feel  safe. 

This  spring  gives  name  to  the  lieservation,  though 
twelve  miles  from  the  agency;  to  reach  which,  we 
climb  up,  up,  up  once  more  to  another  high  sterile 


154 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPAXn. 


all 


m 


plain,  devoid  of  everything  like  vegetation  save  sage 
bush.  Mile  after  mile  we  travel,  until  suddenly  th^. 
team  halts  on  a  brink,  and  we,  to  ascertain  the  cause* 
alight.  Looking  down,  away  down  below  glimmer  a 
dozen  lights.  Tying  all  the  wheels  of  our  vehicle  to- 
gether and  walking  behind  our  team  for  safety,  we  go 
down  into  this  fearful  opening  in  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  and  find  "Warm  Springs  Agency"  at  the  bottom 
of  the  chasm. 

The  country  comprising  this  Indian  Reservation  is 
desolate  in  the  extreme;  the  only  available  iarming 
lands  being  found  in  the  narrow  canons  hemmed  in 
by  high  bluffs.  The  soil  is  alkaline  and  subject  to 
extreme  drought. 

The  Indian  farms  are  small  patches,  irregular  in 
shape  and  size.  They  were  originally  enclosed  by 
the  Government  at  great  expense. 

Remnants  of  the  old  fences  may  be  seen,  bearing 
witness  of  the  way  in  which  Government  fulfilled  its 
promises:  round  blocks  of  wood,  on  some  of  which 
the  decaying  poles  still  lie,  the  blocks  being  from  ten 
to  twenty  feet  apart;  above  them  other  poles  were 
staked,  and  thus  the  fences  were  made. 

Calculation  on  the  cost  of  this  fencing  would  prob- 
ably exhibit  about  five  dollars  per  rod.  In  later 
years  the  Indians  have  rebuilt  and  improved  fences 
and  houses. 

The  department  farm  occupies  the  hest  portion  of 
the  valley,  and  is  cultivated  for  the  benefit  of  the  de- 
partment; seldom,  if  ever,  furnishing  supplies  or  seed 
for  Indians.  The  government  buildings  are  gen- 
erally good,  substantial  and  comfortable  for  the 
employes. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


^    •   " 


The  schools  are  not  well  attended,  and  arc  of  but 
little  value  to  the  Indians,  —  the  fault,  however,  rest- 
ing principally  with  the  Indian  parents,  who  seem  to 
have  but  little  control  over  their  children,  and  do  not 
compel  attendance. 

A  large  number  of  the  Indians  are  professedly 
Christian,  and  are  making  progress  in  civilization. 
The  remainder  are  followers  of  "  Smoheller,"  the 
great  dreamer, —  a  wild,  superstitious  bigot,  —  whose 
teachings  harmonize  with  the  old  religions  of  these 
people.  The  Christian  Indians  are  anxious  for  their 
young  men  to  learn  trades,  and  become  like  white 
men  in  practices  of  life. 

The  others  arc  tenaciously  clinging  to  the  old  hab- 
its of  wild  Indians,  —  isolating  themselves  from  the 
Christian  Indians  and  the  agent. 

Thus  a  wide  difference  is  manifest  among  these 
people,  ajDparently  growing  out  of  their  religions. 
This  is  the  real  cause  of  difference;  but  why  this  dif- 
ference exists  is  a  question  that  is  not  difficult  to 
answer. 

The  Indians  who  were  located  near  the  agency, 
where  they  could  attend  Christian  service,  w^ere 
almost  all  of  them  Christianized;  while  those  whose 
houses  were  remote  from  the  agency,  thus  left  to 
care  for  themselves,  were  followers  of  "  Smoheller." 
Had  these  people  been  permitted  to  select  Tygh  val- 
ley, in  1855,  all  of  them  might  have  been  civilized; 
because  then  all  would  have  had  productive  farms 
and  been  under  the  immediate  eye  of  the  agent. 

If,  then,  they  were  compelled  to  accept  homes  that 
did  not  furnish  them  the  means  of  subsi-stence  and  em- 
ployment, it  is  the  natural  conclusion  and  the  legiti- 


In  I   '! 


Ill 


H 


i' 


156 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


mate  result  of  the  bad  niaiingcnient  of  the  Govern- 
ment ■when  maliing  the  treaty  under  which  the 
Indians  accepted  this  great  fraud  in  lieu  of  their 
own  beautiful  homes. 

The  climate  of  AVarm  Sj)rings  differs  materially 
from  that  of  Grand  liound,  Siletz,  or  Alsea,  being 
sheltered  by  the  Cascade  mountains  from  the  heavy 
rains  of  the  "Willamette  valley,  but,  being  much  higher, 
is  dryer,  and  in  winter  much  colder.  The  mountains 
act  as  a  great  refrigei-atoi*;  hence  snows  are  common, 
though  seldom  to  an  extent  that  prevent  cattle  and 
hoi'scs  from  living  thi-ough  Avithout  being  fed. 

The  ])eoplc  are  somewhat  different  in  physique  and 
habit.  They  are  braver,  and  more  warlike,  and,  in 
times  past,  have  demonstrated  their  right  to  that  char- 
acter. Since  they  became  parties  to  the  treaty  of 
1855,  they  have,  in  the  main,  been  faithful  to  the  com- 
pact, the  exceptions  being  those  who  were  led  away 
by  the  religion  of  "  Smoheller."  Nothing  serious 
has  yet  groAvn  out  of  this  "  new  departure."  What 
may  occur  hereafter  depends  entirely  on  the  manage- 
ment of  the  department. 

In  the  treaty  of  1855  the  confederated  bands  of 
middle  Oregon  reserved  the  right  to  the  fishery  at 
"  The  Dalles,"  of  which  I  have  written  at  some  length, 
on  a  former  page.  In  1866  a  supplemental  treaty 
"vvas  made  with  them  by  my  predecessor,  —  the  late 
Hon.  J.  W.  P.  Huntington,  —  by  which  the  Indians 
released  all  claim  to  said  fishery.  The  consideration 
was  paltr}^,  but  was  promptly  paid  by  the  Govern- 
ment, and  has  long  since  been  expended. 

The  Indians  who  were  parties  to  the  two  treaties 
referred  to  declare,  most  emphatically,  that  they  did 


11 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


157 


not  imdcrstaiKl  the  ternis  of  the  hitter  one;  that 
they  only  consented  to  relinquish,  so  far  as  the  exclu- 
sive rujlit  to  take  salmon  was  considered;  but  that 
they  supposed  and  understood  that  they  were  still  to 
enjoy  the  i)rivilege  in  conunon  with  other  people.  A 
careful  examination  of  the  said  treaty  discloses  the 
fact  that  they  had  entirely  alienated  all  their  right 
and  interest  thereto. 

AV^hen  the  lands  covering  these  fisheries  were  sur- 
veyed and  selected  as  State  lands,  they  were  taken 
up  by  white  men  and  enclosed  with  fences,  ])revent- 
ing  the  Indians  and  others  from  having  access  thereto 
except  on  payment  of  a  royalty  or  rental.  The  In- 
dians, not  understanding  the  right  of  the  parties  in 
possession,  opened  the  enclosure,  and  really,  in  vio- 
lation of  law,  went  to  the  grounds  where  they  and 
their  fathers  had  always  enjoyed,  what  was  to  them 
almost  as  dear  as  life,  the  privilege  of  taking  salmon. 

A  compromise  was  made,  the  Indian  Department 
paying  the  claimant  the  damage  done  to  the  growing 
crops  through  which  the  Indians  had  passed  to  the 
fishery.  I  submitted  the  question  of  releasing  this 
land  to  the  department  at  Washington,  and  also  to 
the  State  land  officers.  The  Government,  and  State 
land  agent,  Col.  Thos.  II.  Cann,  manifested  a  willing- 
ness to  do  justice  to  the  wards  of  the  Government. 

1^0  further  action  Avas  ever  taken,  to  my  knowl- 
edge, by  the  federal  authorities.  I  suppose  that  it 
was  overlooked  and  forgotten.  The  injustice  stands 
yet  a  reproach  tu  a  forgetful  government. 

"  A  bargain  is  a  bargain,"  so  says  the  white  man ; 
and  truly  enougli  it  may  be  held  right  in  a  legal 
view  to  compel  the  Indians  to  submit  to  whatever 


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WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


they  may  agree  to.  But  there  was  a  wrong  done 
them  in  this  instance  that  ought  to  have  been  undone. 
The  plea,  that  so  long  as  they  were  pcnnitted  to 
make  annual  visits  to  the  Columbia  river  to  take 
fish,  would  interfere  with  their  civilization,  because 
of  the  bad  influences  of  vicious  white  men  with 
whom  they  came  in  contact,  and  ur^^ed  in  justifica- 
tion of  the  treaty  whereby  they  yielded  their  rights 
in  the  premises,  was  a  severe  commentary  on  Ameri- 
can Christian  civilization,  but  may  have  been  just. 

It  is  a  fact  that  cannot  be  questioned,. that  the  vir- 
tue of  the  natives,  until  debauched  bv  association 
with  loio  whites,  is  far  above  that  of  the  latter,  and 
that  the  Indian  suffers  most  by  the  contact.  Had  the 
commissioners  who  conducted  the  treaty  of  1855  con- 
sented to  select  Tygh  valley  for  a  Reservation,  no 
necessity  would  }  ve  existed  for  the  Indians  to  obtain 
fish  for  subsistence. 

Warm  Springs  Agency  I  have  and  ever  will  de- 
clare to  be  unfit  for  civilized  Indians  to  occupy. 
Since  they  were  compelled  to  take  up  their  abode 
thereon,  not  one  season  in  three,  on  an  average,  has 
been  propitious  for  raising  farm  products.  When  a 
people  hitherto  accustomed  to  ramble  unrestrained, 
are  confined  on  a  Reservation  that  has  not  the  neces- 
sary resources  to  sustain  them,  they  should  be  per- 
mitted the  privilege  of  going  outside  for  subsistence. 

Shame  on  a  powerful  people  who  would  deny  them 
this  privilege;  yet  it  is  done.  While  these  Indians 
on  Warm  Springs  have  had  many  hindering  causes 
why  they  should  not  progress,  they  have  nevertheless 
made  decided  advancement  in  the  march  from  savage 
to  civilized  life.     The  fact  of  their  living  on  unpro- 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


159 


ductivc  soil  has  not  been  the  only  impediment  in  their 
way.  To  enable  my  readers  to  understand  more  fully 
this  subject,  I  will  introduce  the  subjoined  letter  from 
the  present  acting  agent  on  Warm  Springs  Reserva- 
tion, —  Captain  John  Smith.  Early  in  February,  1874, 
I  addressed  a  letter  to  him,  stating  my  purpose  of 
writing  this  volume,  and  requested  him  to  furnish  me 
with  such  facts  as  he  would  be  willing  to  have  appear 
in  my  book  ovei  his  own  signature. 


li 


1 1 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  PARSON  BROWNLOW  OF  THE  INDIAN  SERVICE. 

To  my  readers  of  the  Pacific  coast,  I  need  say 
nothing  in  commendation  of  this  writer.  He  is  too 
well  known  to  require  an  introduction.  But  that  his 
communication  may  be  appreciated  by  those  who  do 
not  know  "  The  Captain,"  it  may  be  well  to  state 
that  he  is  a  member  of  the  old-school  Presbyterian 
church,  has  long  resided  "West,  is  respected  by  all 
who  know  him,  as  a  man  of  unimpeachable  honor  and 
integrity.  His  heart  is  in  his  work,  and  he  talks  and 
acts  toward  the  Indians  under  his  charge  more  as  a 
father  than  as  an  officer.  A  zealous  churchman  and 
partisan,  he  is  positive  in  character,  and  fearless  as  a 
speaker;  while  he  may  be  lacking  in  some  minor 
qualities,  he  has  so  many  important  and  useful  ones 
that  qualify  him  for  his  position,  that  the  deficiency, 
if  any,  is  not  felt.  As  a  christian  civilizer  of  Indians 
he  ranks  with  Father  Wilber,  of  Yakama,  and  other 
noble-hearted  men. 

Warm  Springs  has  been  assigned  to  the  Methodist 
Church;  yet  so  much  confidence  has  Captain  Smith 
inspired  l)y  his  success,  that  they  have  not  recom- 
mended his  removal.  In  this  they  have  consulted  the 
higher  and  purer  motives  that  should,  and  often  do, 
control  men  in  important  matters.  He  should  be  per- 
mitted to  hold  his  off      during  life. 

This  communication,  coming  from  such  a  man,  is 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


mi 


worthy  of  careful  consideration;  touching,  as  it  does, 
the  key-notes  of  the  great  question  of  the  Christian- 
ization  of  the  Indians. 


om- 
the 
do, 

per- 


Wabh  Spbinos  Aobnct,  Orboon. 

Hon.  a.  B.  Meacham:  — 

My  dear  Sir,  —  Beheving  that  the  work  you  con- 
template publishing  is  designed  to  teach  the  mind.,  of 
men  the  capability  of  the  Indian  race  to  be  morally, 
religiously  and  socially  advanced;  and  having  had 
the  experience  of  a  residence  of  some  seven  years 
among  the  confederate  tribes  and  bands  of  Middle 
Oregon,  as  agent;  and  further  believing  that  I  have  in 
some  degree  mastered  the  great  problem  of  their  civil- 
ization, I  willingly  contribute  anything  that  may 
serve  to  give  your  readers  a  correct  idea  of  the  prog- 
ress they  have  really  made;  and  they  are  still  going 
forward. 

It  will  be  necessary  to  go  back  to  the  time  I  first 
came  among  them.  A  more  degraded  set  of  beings  I 
am  sure  did  not  exist  on  the  earth,  nor  was  the  con- 
dition of  most  of  ♦^he  Indians  on  this  coast  much 
better. 

The  mind  of  man  would  not  conceive  that  human 
beings  could  get  so  low  in  the  scale  of  humanity  as 
they  were;  and  I  am  sure,  if  they  had  been  left  to  the 
instincts  of  their  own  wild  and  savage  natures,  they 
could  never  have  beei  so  low  down  as  they  were. 

God's  holy  Sabbath  was  set  apart  as  a  day  of 
licentiousness  and  debauchery.  Drinking  and  gam- 
bling had  become  common.  Their  women  were  univer- 
sally unchaste,  and  were  taught  to  believe  that  lewd- 
ness was  a  conunendable  practice,  or  even  a  virtue. 


pit 


il 


162 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Diseases  and  death  were  entailed  on  their  posterity. 
The  men  had  to  submit  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet ; 
the  consequence  was,  the  Indians  had  lost  all  confi- 
dence in  the  honesty  and  integrity  of  white  men. 

This  state  of  aifairs  was  principally  owing  to  the 
military  being  brought  into  close  proximity  to  them. 
Some  of  the  officers  had  built  houses,  and  were 
living  with  Indian  women. 

•  After  I  came  here  (the  military  having  been  re- 
moved previously)  the  Snake  Indians  commenced 
making  raids  on  the  Reservation. 

I  ""Tas  asked  "if  I  wished  the  military  to  protect 
us. "  I  answered,  "  ^N'o."  I  preferred  the  raids  of 
the  Snake  Indians  to  the  presence  of  the  soldiers;  for 
I  doubted  if  I  would  be  able  in  twenty  years  to  wipe 
out  the  evidences  of  the  military  having  been  amongst 
them;  and  I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  the  agents  and 
employes  set  over  them  to  teach  them  had  also  con- 
tributed largely  to  their  degradation. 

One  of  the  agents  has  been  frequently  heard  to  say, 
"  that  he  thought  the  best  way  to  civilize  the  Indians 
was  to  wash  out  the  color."  They  had  accomplished 
what  they  were  able  to  in  that  line.  While  it  is 
certain  that  one  agent  came  here  a  poor  man,  and  went 
away  wealthy,  to  say  nothing  of  the  lesser  pickings 
which  employers  and  contractors  were  allowed  to 
take. 

How  to  restore  the  lost  confidence  in  the  white 
man  seemed  on  my  arrival  a  herculean  task.  My  first 
work  was  to  get  rid  of  all  contaminating  influences, 
by  discharging  bad  men  and  filling  their  places  with 
good, '  \oral,  and  religious  persons.  The  reformation 
at  firsi  seemed  slow,  but  gradually  increased  from  day 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


163 


to  day.  I  was  soon  able  to  start  a  Sabbath  school, 
and  divine  services  were  held  every  Sabbath. 

The  Indians,  old  and  young,  were  placed  in  classes, 
and  appropriate  teachers  set  over  them.  Soon  our 
large  and  commodious  house  of  worship  was  filled  to 
its  utmost  capacity  by  old  and  young,  male  and 
female,  all  seemingly  eager  to  pick  up  the  crumbs  of 
comfort  that  fell  from  God's  holy  word;  and  from 
Sabbath  to  Sabbath  this  was  continued. 

Then  came  a  change;  officers  from  the  army  were 
ordered  to  relieve  agents.  The  Sabbath  was  soon 
disregarded;  Christian"  and  moral  men  had  their 
places  made  unpleasant,  and  were  compelled  to  resign. 
Their  places  were  filled  by  others  who  cared  for  noth- 
ing of  the  kind,  and  everything  was  relapsing  into  its 
former  condition. 

When  I  was  again  permitted  to  return  I  found 
things  but  little  better  than  when  I  first  came.  How- 
ever, I  immediately  set  to  work  again,  and,  I  think  I 
can  truly  say,  with  full  success.  We  have  now  three 
Bible-classes  that  read  a  verse  around,  and  seem  to 
comprehend  very  well  what  they  read. 

The  old  men  are  all  in  a  class,  and  a  person  is  ap- 
pointed to  read  a  chapter  and  explain  it  to  them  every 
Sabbath  day.  Many  who  cannot  read  can  quote  a 
large  amount  of  Scripture.  Quite  a  number,  both 
men  and  women,  lead  in  prayer,  and  many  families 
maintain  family  worship,  seemingly  living  Christian 
lives.  We  give  out  a  psalm;  many  of  the  young 
people  find  it  about  as  readily  as  we  do,  and  can  lead 
the  music.  The  first  week  of  the  new  year  was 
observed  as  a  national  prayer-meeting,  which  was 
well  attended;  some  for  the  first  tune  acknowledging 


I,    I 


'l  ' 


it;4 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Christ  as  their  Saviour.  We  have  at  this  time  nearly 
one  hundred  professing  to  live  Christian  lives,  and 
we  seem  to  be  adding,  from  day  to  day,  such  as  I 
hope  will  be  saved.  Our  day-school  has  been  a  great 
success  for  the  last  two  years;  before  that  it  was  a 
failure,  and  I  am  now  convinced  that  it  was  the  fault 
of  the  teac;hers  not  understanding  the  management 
of  Indian  children.  We  have  quite  a  number  of 
children  who  read  and  speak  fluently,  commit  to 
memory  easily,  using  the  slate  to  advantage,  demon- 
strating their  capability  to  learn  as  readily  as  white 
cliildren,  provided  they  can  have  the  same  advantages. 

There  are  white  children  in  the  school  who  do  not 
advance  as  rapidly  as  some  of  the  Indian  children, 
thus  exploding  the  general  opinion  that,  as  a  race, 
tlic}^  are  merely  imitative  beings,  but  cannot  originate 
an  idea.  The  true  Indian  character,  I  fear,  is  very 
little  understood,  and  still  it  seems  almost  anybody 
can  ^^Tite  lectures  on  it,  and  with  about  as  much  truth 
in  them  as  ^sop's  fables  contain. 

I  have  found  them  much  more  susceptible  of  moral 
and  religious  advancement  than  the  white  man,  giving 
them  the  same  opportunities ;  and  I  account  for  it  in 
the  fact  that  you  never  find  an  infidel  among  them 
unless  made  so  by  white  men.  They  all  acknowledge 
a  Supreme  Being  that  overrules  all  things.  They 
may  have  a  very  crude  notion  of  the  worship  due  to 
such  a  Creator,  but  so  soon  as  they  are  taught  the 
true  worship,  they  become  very  zealous,  and  they  have 
no  scoffers  to  discourage  them. 

One  fatal  error  has  been  in  admitting  them  into 
churches,  without  any  change  of  heart,  to  enjoy  all 
its  privileges ;  consequently  they  were  not  restrained 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


165 


by  any  inward  principle,  and  never  became  any  better. 
To  make  a  Christian  religious,  intelligence,  as  well 
as  zeal,  is  necessary.  If  we  are  to  be  judged  by 
God's  law,  we  should  be  acquainted  with  it,  and  it  is 
as  needful  for  an  Indian  as  for  a  white  man  to  know 
that  law  in  order  to  become  a  Christian. 

The  Catholics  take  them  into  the  church,  whether 
converted  or  not;  and  they  are  never  made  any  better, 
but  rather  worse,  for  they  are  kept  ignorant  and 
superstitious.  This  was  the  case  here,  and  these 
Indians  are  well  aware  of  these  facts.  I  have  iiy 
doubts  if  a  single  Indian  can  be  found  on  this  coast 
that  has  been  made  any  better  by  the  Catholics. 

I  am  credibly  informed  that  they  say  mass  in  the 
morning,  then  run  horses  and  play  cards  the  remain- 
der of  the  day ;  and  all  this  under  the  eye  of  the  priest. 
At  the  time  of  my  coming  here  polygamy  was 
indulged  to  the  fullest  extent.  Their  women  were 
bought  and  sold,  and  used  as  beasts  of  burden,  and 
when  old,  were  kicked  out  at  pleasure,  to  get  their 
living  as  best  they  could,  or  die  of  want. 

I  immediately  set  myself  to  work  to  remedy  this 
evil,  by  telling  them  it  was  in  violation  of  God's  holy 
word;  then  I  was  asked  why  we  did  not  put  a  stop 
to  it  among  the  Mormons.  I  finally  succeeded  in  se- 
curing a  law  prohibiting  it  in  the  future;  allowing  all 
who  had  more  than  one  wife  to  get  rid  of  her  as  best 
they  could,  but  any  one  violating  the  law  should  be 
punished  by  fine  or  imprisonment. 

I  was  soon  after  enabled  to  pass  an  amendment 
that  where  there  was  more  than  one  wife,  if  one 
wished  to  leave,  their  husbands  had  no  control  over 
them.    Under  this  rule  nearly  all  had  left. 


166 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


On  last  Sabbath,  a  woman  got  up  in  church  and 
said  she  was  fully  convinced  that  she  had  been  living 
in  violation  of  God's  holy  word.  She  had  lived  with 
her  husband  a  long  time;  he  had  always  treated  her 
well,  and  she  loved  him,  —  but  she  loved  her  Saviour 
more,  and  for  the  sake  of  heaven  and  happiness  she 
had  to  give  him  up.  She  was  much  affected.  I  was 
reminded  of  the  words  of  our  Saviour  when  he  said, 
he  had  "  found  no  such  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel." 

Her  confession  has  led  others  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion ;  and  I  think  we  can  truly  say,  the  days  of  polyg- 
amy are  ended  among  these  people,  or  soon  will  be. 
The  merchandise  of  their  women  was  a  source  of 
great  annoyance  to  them.  Their  girls  brought  from 
three  to  ten  head  of  horses,  owing  generally  to  the 
manner  their  pa  •  were  able  to  dress  them  for  the 
market.  This  '  m  was  very  hard  to  get  rid  of, 
but  it  has  entirely  ceased  for  the  last  three  years. 
By  law  they  are  required  to  be  married  by  the 
agent;  for  violation  of  this  law  they  are  punished. 
No  divorces  are  granted,  except  in  cases  of  adultery. 
Cards,  or  any  other  devices  for  gambling,  found  about 
their  premises,  make  them  liable  to  a  fine  of  twenty- 
five  dollars,  or  ten  days'  work  on  the  highway;  as 
does,  also,  gambling,  or  drinking  ardent  spirits,  and 
refusing  to  tell  where  it  was  obtained.  Adultery  is 
severely  punished;  and  now  I  am  able  to  add  another 
law  entirely  prohibiting  polygamy. 

Our  court  consists  of  the  "  Head  Chief"  and  six 
selected  men,  —  the  agent  presiding,  —  an  Indian 
acting  as  sheriff,  who  arrests  and  brings  into  court  all 
offenders,  and  subpoenas  witnesses.  The  councils  are 
always  opened  by  prayer  by  some  of  the  Indians. 


WI0W.V3I   AND  WARPATH. 


1G7 


Their  agricultural  affairs  and  social  relations  have 
unajrgone  a  great  change.  AVhen  I  came  among 
them  tlicy  were  wrapped  up  in  their  filthy  blankets, 
eating  their  meals  —  if  meals  they  could  be  called  — 
off  the  ground  like  the  pigs. 

They  had  but  few  houses.  Their  crops  probably 
did  not  exceed  three  hundred  bushels  in  any  season; 
they  were  living  on  the  roots  they  digged  in  the 
mountains  and  the  fish  they  caught  in  the  streams, 
and  not  one  pound  of  anything  on  the  Reservation.  I 
purchased  for  them  a  limited  amount  of  seed  —  they 
packing  it  forty  miles.  This  enabled  them  to  raise 
five  thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  with  a  good  supply 
of  assorted  vegetables. 

This  seemed  to  gi\e  them  new  life,  and  they  have 
been  steadily  increasing  ever  since. 

Their  crop,  the  last  season,  has  been  estimated  at 
from  twelve  to  fifteen  thousand  bushels  of  wheat, 
with  an  abundance  of  vegetables  of  all  kinds. 

Now  they  have  some  forty  houses,  with  logs  hauled 
and  lumber  partly  sawed  for  perhaps  twenty  more. 

Many  families  sit  around  tables  well  furnished  with 
the  luxuries  common  with  white  people.  As  to  their 
dress,  they  will  compare  very  favorably  with  many 
country  congregations. 

The  women  and  children  come  to  church  clean  and 
nice,  many  of  them  dressed  equal  to  white  women. 

I  have  built  a  house,  18  X  42  feet,  for  a  female 
school.  In  this  house,  if  I  shall  remain  here  a  short 
time  longer,  I  shall  expect  to  accomplish  much,  as  I 
propose  to  teach  their  women  domestic  economy,  -  . 
thing  thoy  are  very  little  acquainted  with,  as  are  they 
also  with  the  preparation  of  vegetable  foods,  to  make 


1G8 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


!VI 


I     '' 


'!!  i 


1 


Iht'in  i)alatablc;  and  lor  this  rcapon  they  arc  less 
used  than  they  should  be,  and  they  depend  too  much 
on  the  ehase  and  lisheries. 

This  makes  it  necessary  to  leave  their  homes  at 
times,  and  keeps  up  lllthy  habits,  and  their  homes  are 
not  made  eomlbrtable  as  they  would  be  if  they  looked 
to  the  ground  for  support;  and  they  could  be  better 
induced  to  give  up  the  chase  and  become  settled  and 
eomlbrtable,  much  to  the  benefit  of  their  health. 

During  the  last  year  probably  less  than  one  half  of 
the  usual  number  left  the  Reservation  in  search  of 
food,  and  I  find  the  increase  in  numbevs  ha«^  ')cen  sur- 
prising. In  roaming  around,  their  children  can  never 
be  educated,  as  they  only  come  to  school  in  the  win- 
ter months,  and  forget  what  they  learn  by  the  next 
winter. 

The  sooner  Indians  can  be  brought  to  look  to  the 
earth  for  a  support,  the  better;  or,  in  other  words,  the 
Bible  and  the  plough  are  the  only  civilizers  of  the 
human  family. 

That  has  been  my  experience  with  these  Indians, 
notwithstanding  the  scoffs  and  jeers  of  infidels,  who 
would  like  to  bring  all  manivind  down  to  a  level  with 
the  wild  and  barbarous  Indians ;  and  these  are  gen- 
erally the  kind  of  men  who  wish  them  transferred 
from  the  civil  to  the  military  authorities. 

This  experiment  has  been  tried,  and  we  have  seen 
the  result.  They  may  have  been  in  some  measure 
controlled,  but  never  made  any  better,  —  always 
worse.  Their  object  has  been  to  control  them,  —  not 
to  civilize  them. 

President  Grant's  humane  policy  has  done  more 
towards  civilizing  the  Indians  than  all  things  hereto- 


WIGWAM  AND   WAnrATH. 


169 


fore,  done;  and  it  is  yet  in  its  infancy,  while  every- 
thing that  could  l)e  has  been  brought  to  bear  against 
it,  to  make  it  unpopular  if  possible. 

Here  let  nie  say  a  woi-d  in  regard  to  yourself.  I 
have  the  fullest  confidence  that  the  earnest  manner  in 
which  the  work  was  seconded  and  pushed  forward 
during  your  supcrintendency  has  greatly  contributed 
to  its  success  among  the  Indians  of  Oregon,  who,  I 
think,  can  compare  favorably  with  any  others  in  the 
United  States. 

Good  results  were  apparent  among  these  Indian.^, 
and  I  presume  also  others,  immediately  after  Ihe 
holding  of  that  general  council  at  Salem  in  the  fall 
of  1871.  AVliat  Lliey  saw  and  heard  there  gave  them 
faith  in  iLc  good  intentions  of  the  Government 
towards  them,  and  encouraged  them  to  try  and  do 
something  for  themselves;  and  your  general  manner 
of  treating  and  talking  to  them  was  well  calculated 
to  inspire  them  with  confidence  and  a  desire  for 
improvement. 

These  Indians  have  been  repeatedly  advised  to 
leave  the  Reservation  by  designing  men,  on  the  ground 
that  under  the  fourteenth  amendment  to  the  Constitu- 
tion they  are  citizens,  entitled  to  both  settle  where 
they  please,  and  to  enjoy  all  other  rights  appertaining 
to  citizenship. 

They  have  succeeded  in  drawing  away  something 
over  a  hundred,  who  are  roaming  over  the  country; 
and  some  fears  are  entertained  t'lat  should  the  mili- 
tary attempt  to  force  them  to  return  there  may  be 
trouble,  and  perhaps  a  repetition  of  Modoc  scenes. 

If  this  should  be  the  case,  the  fault  clearly  would 
not  be  with  the  policy  of  the  administration,  but  with 


i 


IBH 


'fl 


t  « 


170 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


its  enemies,  who  by  their  mischievous  interference 
have  induced  the  Indians  to  leave. 

I  think  the  facts  will  bear  me  out  in  the  statement 
that  if  the  only  contact  of  the  Indians  with  the  whites 
had  been  with  true  Christian  men,  there  never  w^ould 
have  been  any,  or,  at  least,  very  little  trouble  with 
them. 

The  cases  are  not  wanting  where  men  of  high 
moral  and  Christian  character  have  succeeded  ad- 
mirably in  controlling  Indians,  by  showing  decision 
and  firmness  where  it  was  needed,  leniency  and  favor 
where  it  was  appreciated,  and  dealing  honestly  and 
honorably  in  all  things. 

The  results  shown,  where  the  contact  was  be- 
tween them  and  such  men,  even  though  it  did  not 
continue  for  any  great  length  of  time,  indicate  clearly 
enough  what  might  have  been  the  present  condition 
of  these  "  wards  of  the  nation  "  if  none  but  good  in- 
fluences had  been  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  We 
should  have  heard  fewer  details  of  revolting  massa- 
cres, there  would  have  been  fewer  costly  wars  and 
campaigns,  that  now  go  to  fill  up  the  pages  of  U.  S. 
history;  and  it  is  no  idle  fancy,  but  a  logical  deduc- 
tion, to  presume  that  they  might  at  present  be  self- 
supporting,  instead  of  at  the  expense  they  now  are, 
and  must  be  for  some  time  to  come ;  if  indeed  they 
were  not  able  to  contribute  something  to  the  support 
of  the  Government.  Very  much  might  be  said  on 
this  subject,  but  as  you  probably  prefer  facts  to 
theories,  incidents  to  deductions,  I  will  not  intrude 
mine  upon  you. 

Hoping  that  your  work  may  be  successful  in  assist- 
ing to  lead  people  to  form  just  and  correct  con- 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


171 


elusions  and  ideas   in  regard  to  the  Indian  ques- 
tion, 

I  remain, 

Yours  respectfully, 

JOIi:N^  SMITH, 
U.  8.  Indian  Agent  at  Warm  Springs,  Oregon^ 

Here  is  a  man  talking  of  a  subject  who  knows 
wheieof  he  writes;  so  far  at  least  as  relates  to  his 
own  experience  and  observation. 

His  success,  as  declared  by  his  letter,  is  established 
by  many  living  witnesses,  and  the  anthems  of  praise 
that  go  up  from  this  mountain  home  of  the  red 
men. 

The  reader  who  peruses  the  foregoing  letter  will 
not  fail  to  discover  that  Captain  Smith's  heart  is  in 
the  work,  and  that  he  is  animated  by  a  true  Christian 
spirit  in  his  labors  with  his  people. 

I  do  not,  however,  endorse  all  his  strictures  on  the 
effects  of  the  Catholic  Church,  in  its  labors  in  behalf 
of  the  Indian  race.  I  know  many  worthy  men,  who 
are  honestly  laboring  for  them,  who  are  members  of 
the  Catholic  Church.  There  is  a  difference  in  the 
polity  of  that  and  Protestant  Churches,  and,  however 
strong  my  own  prejudices  may  be  in  favor  of  the 
latter,  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  fact  that  the  Catholic 
Church  has  manifested  a  great  interest  in  these  peo- 
ple.    Let  them  be  judged  by  their  works. 

Unfortunately  for  the  world,  Christianity  has  not, 
and  does  not,  divest  its  followers  of  the  common  in- 
heritance of  poor  weak  human  nature,  and  of  the  pas- 
sions and  prejudices  that  close  our  eyes  to  the  vir- 
tues and  honor  due  those  who  differ  from  us.    More 


i 


II 


172 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


charity,  more  justice,  preached  and  practised,  would 
make  man  far  happier. 

In  December,  1871, 1  visited  Warm  Springs  Agency. 
I  remained  several  days ;  during  which  time  a  series 
of  meetings  were  held  at  the  agency.  From  the 
record  kept  of  that  meeting  I  make  a  short  synopsis. 
Agent  Smith,  when  his  people  were  assembled  in  the 
school-house,  called  on  an  Indian  to  offer  prayers.  I 
confess  that  I  was  somewhat  surprised  to  witness  the 
response,  by  a  man  whose  childhood  had  been  passed 
in  a  wild  Indian  camp,  and  whose  youth  had  witnessed 
scenes  of  warfare  against  the  white  man,  and  who  had 
been  compelled  to  accept  this  poor  home,  in  lieu  of  the 
beautiful  prairies  of  "John  Day's "  river  country, 
—  the  name  of  a  branch  of  tlie  Columbia.  A  hymn  was 
sung  by  the  people.  IS^owhere  have  I  ever  seen 
exhibited  a  more  confiding  trust  in  God  than  was 
shown  by  them. 

After  the  preliminaries  were  over,  a  discussion  was 
ofiened  on  the  several  matters  pertaining  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  Indians, — their  church,  school,  business 
matters,  investment  of  funds,  etc. 

The  social  and  civil  customs  were  brought  up.  We 
insisted  that  polygamy  was  a  great  crime,  and  that  they 
should  abolish  the  law  permitting  it. 

The  meeting  increased  in  interest  and  earnestness 
for  several  days.  We  finally  proposed  that  those  of 
them  who  were  willing  should  come  out  squarely 
and  renounce  all  their  old  ways,  and  take  new  names, 
or,  at  least,  add  to  their  old  ones  a  plain  American 
name.  The  people  were  warmed  in  their  hearts. 
The  occasion  was  one  of  intense  interest.  Here  were 
those  who  had  come  up  from  a  low,  debased  condi- 


'^. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


173 


tion,  through  the  labors  of  Christian  white  men,  until 
they  stood  on  the  threshold  of  a  higher  life  than  they 
had  as  yet  known.     It  was  to  them  an  important  step. 

The  speeches  made  gave  evidence  of  thought  and 
forecast  of  mind.  They  did  not  rush  blindly  forward 
without  counting  the  cost. 

This  scene  reminds  me  of  a  Methodist  camp  meet- 
ing in  olden  time,  when  people  were  moved  by  some 
invisible  power  to  llee  from  the  wrath  to  come; 
when  the  preacher  would  call,  and  exhort,  and  pray, 


and  a 


great 


overshadowing  presence    touched    all 


hearts,  and  drove  away  careless  thoughts  and  selfish 
purposes,  and  the  multitude  wouM  seem  to  melt  and 
mingle  in  common  sympathy;  when  saints  could 
throw  their  arms  around  sinners,  and  make  them  feel 
how  much  they  loved  them,  and  how  earnestly  they 
desired  their  salvation;  when  brave  old  sinners  hes- 
itated, faltered  and  trembled,  and  strong,  brave  Chris- 
tians would  then  renew  the  contest  in  behalf  of 
religion.  Men  who  had  knocked  elbows  for  life 
would  meet  at  a  common  altar,  or  gather  in  knots 
and  surround  some  stubborn,  hard-hearted  sinner, 
who,  with  thoughtful  brow,  woidd  whittle  sticks  and 
spit,  and  whittle  again,  sometimes  throwing  the  chips 
away  from  him,  indicating  "I  won't;"  and  then,  when 
some  more  pointed  word  of  argument,  or  love,  was 
sent  home  to  the  sinner's  heart,  he  would  turn  the 
stick  and  whittle  the  chips  toward  him,  thus  saying, 
"  I  may ; "  until  at  last,  when  the  preacher  calls,  "  Who 
will  be  the  next?  "  the  repentant  one  drops  his  stick, 
shuts  his  knife,  draws  his  bandanna  to  his  eyes,  starts 
forward,  escorted  by  his  pious  exulting  friends,  who 
clear  the  way  for  the  now  penitent  man. 


174 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


The  preacher  comes  down  from  the  stand,  clapping 
his  hands,  and  with  streaming  eyes  shouts,  "Thank 
God,  another  sinner  has  turned  to  the  Lord  I  "  extends 
his  hand,  and  utters  a  few  kind  words  in  the  listening 
ear,  and  resumes,  "  Who  will  be  the  next?  " 

A  cowardly  sinner,  who  dares  not  come  out  from 
the  world,  and  is  not  brave  enough  to  stand  before  the 
battery  of  divine  power,  turns  and  flees,  not  from  the 
wrath  to  come,  but  from  the  means  that  are  intended 
to  make  him  whole.  He  is  followed  by  kind-hearted 
Christian  friends  and  brought  back,  and  he,  too,  sur- 
renders ;  and  the  preacher  says,  "  Thank  the  Lord  I  " 
and  the  brethren  shout,  "  Amen  I  Amen." 

And  thus  the  work  goes  on  until  all  are  converted, 
or  give  evidence  of  penitence,  save,  perhaps,  some 
strong-willed,  hard-hearted,  cool-headed  one,  and 
then  especial  efforts  are  made  in  his  behalf.  If  he 
does,  at  last,  yield  ^his  stubborn  will,  the  joy  is  im- 
bounded. 

This  picture  I  have  made,  is  a  true  one  of  western 
camp-meetings,  and  equally  true  of  the  Indian  meet- 
ing held  at  Warm  Springs  in  December,  1871.  I  was 
to  that  what  the  presiding  elder  was  to  a  camp-meet- 
ing. Capt.  Smith  was  the  "preacher  in  charge.'' 
After  one  or  two  days  of  speech-making,  when  all 
hearts  were  thoroughly  aroused,  the  proposition  above 
referred  to  was  made.  I  shall  never  forget  the  scene 
that  followed.  "  Who  will  be  the  first  to  throw  away 
his  Indian  heart,  laws,  customs,  and  be  from  this  day 
henceforth  a  white  man  in  everything  pertaining  to 
civilization?"  Silence  reigned;  all  eyes  turned  toward 
"Mark,"  head  chief.  He  realized  the  situation,  saw 
how  much  of  the  welfare  of  his  people  depended  on 


^VIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


175 


his  example.    He  saw,  besides,  his  three  wives  and 
their  ten  children. 

He  arose  slowly,  half  hesitating,  as  though  he  had 
not  fully  made  up  his  mind  what  to  do.  The  pres- 
ence of  his  women  embarrassed  him.  He  said,  "  My 
heart  is  warm  like  fire,  but  there  are  cold  spots  in  it. 
I  don't  faiow  how  to  talk.  I  want  to  be  a  white  man. 
My  father  did  not  tell  me  it  was  wrong  to  have  so 
many  wives.  I  love  all  my  women.  My  old  wife  is  a 
mother  to  the  others,  I  can't  do  without  her;  but  she 
is  old,  she  cannot  work  very  much ;  I  can't  send  her 
away  to  die.  This  woman,"  pointing  to  another, 
"cost  me  ten  horses;  she  is  a  good  woman;  I  can't  do 
without  her.  That  woman,"  pointing  to  still  another, 
"  cost  me  eight  horses ;  she  is  young ;  she  will  take 
care  of  me  when  I  am  old.  I  don't  know  how  to  do; 
I  want  to  do  right.  I  am  not  a  bad  man.  I  laiow 
your  new  law  is  good;  the  old  law  is  bad.  We  must 
be  like  the  white  man.  I  am  a  man;  I  will  put  away 
the  old  law." 

Captain  Smith,  although  a  Presbyterian,  behaved 
then  like  an  old-fashioned  Methodist,  shouting, 
"  Thank  God !  Thank  God,  the  ice  is  broke ! " 

Mark  remained  standing,  and  resinned :  "  I  want  you 
to  tell  me  how  to  do  right.  I  love  my  women  and 
children.  I  can't  sen^  ..ny  of  them  away;  what  must 
I  do?  "  The  old  chief  was  moved,  and  his  uphca\nng 
breast  gave  proof  that  he  was  a  man.  Silence  fol- 
lowed, while  he  stood  awaiting  the  answer,  —  a 
silence  that  was  felt. 

Here  \ras  a  people,  in  the  very  throes  of  a  new  life, 
making  effort  to  overcome  the  effects  of  savage  birth 
and    education.     The    heart  of  this   question   was 


176 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


t'  ^h 


[li  'i|;- 


bared.  This  old  superstition  was  still  lingering  in 
their  lives,  part  and  parcel  of  the  very  existence  of 
the  2>eople.  It  remained  with  them  even  after  they 
had  put  away  their  religious  faith  and  accepted  that 
of  their  Christian  teachers. 

We  had  long  before  seen  the  struggle  that  it  would 
cost, — the  embarrassments  that  polygamy  threw  into 
the  question.  Our  mind  was  made  up,  or  Ave  thought 
it  was,  and,  motioning  the  chief  to  be  seated,  we  arose 
and  said :  — 

"  I  know  how  much  depends  on  my  words.  This 
is  a  great  question.  It  has  always  been  a  hard  thing 
to  manage.  My  heart  is  not  rock.  I  sympathize 
with  you ;  Captain  Smith  feels  for  you.  We  will  tell 
you  what  to  do.  Ko  man  after  this  day  shall  ever 
marry  more  than  one  woman.  No  woman  shall  ever 
be  sold.  The  men  that  have  more  than  one  wife 
must  arrange  to  be  lawfully  married  to  one  of  them. 
The  others  are  to  remain  with  him  until  they  are 
married  to  other  persons,  or  find  homes  elscwiicre. 
If  they  do  not  marry  again,  the  husband  must  take 
care  of  them  and  their  children." 

After  a  few  moments,  the  chief  arose,  and  said,  "  I 
understand ;  that  is  right.  I  will  give  all  my  Avives  a 
choice.  I  will  be  a  white  man  from  this  day ;"  and  then, 
advancing  toward  the  desk,  he  was  welcomed  by 
friendly  greeting  from  the  white  men  present. 

Holding  him  by  the  hand  I  said  to  him,  "  I  wel- 
come my  red  brother  to  our  civilization.  You  are  now 
a  man;  our  jieople  do  not  consider  the  color  of  a  man; 
it  is  his  heart,  his  life.     What  name  will  you  take?  " 

He  hesitated,  looking  down  for  a  moment;  then  rais- 
ing his  eyes  to  my  own  with  earnest  gazii,  he  inquired 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


177 


if  he  might  take  my  name,  saying  that  he  liked  it 
because  it  sounded  well. 

Acknowledging  the  compliment,  I  extended  my 
hand,  and  addressed  him  as  Mr.  Mark  Meaeham, 
which  was  greeted  with  great  applause.  His  second 
wife,  Matola,  arose  and  made  a  short  speech,  inquiring 
what  was  to  become  of  her  and  her  children.  "  Is 
your  heart  made  of  stone?  Can  I  give  Mark  up?  No 
r  won't;  he  will  want  my  children.  I  want  them.  I 
won't  go  away.  I  am  his  wife.  I  am  satisfied  with  being 
his  second  wife ;  we  did  not  know  it  was  wrong.  JS^o- 
body  told  us  so.  We  get  along  well  together.  I  won't 
leave  him;  I  am  his  wife."  The  plan  was  explained, 
and  she  was  reconciled.  John  Mission  was  next  to 
follow  Mark,  saying,  "that  when  he  was  a  small 
boy,  he  first  heard  about  the  new  law.  He  had  waited 
for  the  time  when  his  people  would  come  to  it.  They 
have  come  now.  I  am  glad  in  my  heart.  I  give  you 
my  hand." 

Billy  Chinook  said,  "I  throAv  away  the  law  my 
fathers  made.  I  take  this  new  law.  I  have  two  wives. 
They  are  both  good.  If  anybody  wants  one  of  my 
wives,  he  can  have  her;  if  he  don't,  she  can  stay. 
Long  time  I  have  waited  for  the  new  la\>.  It  has 
come.     I  give  you  my  hand." 

Hand-shaking  was  renewed,  and  then  one  after 
another  arose  and  made  short  speeches,  and  came  for- 
ward and  were  enrolled ;  the  captain  growing  warmer 
and  more  enthusiastic  as  each  new  name  was  entered 
on  the  roll.  I^early  one  hundred  had  come  out 
squarely,  and  we  adjourned  the  meeting  to  the  follow- 
ing day. 

On  reassembling,  next  morning,  the  invitation  was 


I'  !•  :■ 

f  n  ■ 


i^.  m 


\  ii,i.     '; 


11 


t! 


ii  ile 


I 


178 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


renewed,  and  nearly  all  of  the  men  present  surren- 
dered. Sitting  moody,  gloomy,  silent,  was  a  tall, 
fine-looting  fellow,  with  a  blanket  on  his  shoulders. 
His  name  was  Pi-a-noose. 

He  had  been  called  on  several  times,  but  had  not 
responded  until  near  the  close  of  this  civil  revival. 
Unexpectedly  he  laid  aside  his  blanket  and  arose. 
Every  eye  was  turned  on  this  man,  because  he  had 
opposed  every  new  law.  While  he  was  a  peaceable, 
quiet  man,  he  was  a  strong  one,  and  had  always  exer- 
cised great  influence,  especially  with  the  younger 
men. 

He  began  to  talk,  —  breaking  a  breathless  silence, 
because  it  was  supposed  that  he  would  take  a  stand 
against  the  new  law,  —  the  Indian  way  of  speaking 
of  all  new  rules.  His  speech  was  one  of  vast  impor- 
tance to  his  hearers,  and  was  as  follows :  — 

"  I  was  born  a  wild  Indian.  My  father  was  a  wild 
Indian.  A  long  time  I  have  fought  you  in  my  heart. 
I  have  not  talked  much;  I  wanted  to  think.  I  have 
thought  about  the  new  law  a  great  deal.  I  thought  I 
would  not  have  the  new  law.  My  heart  says  ]S'o !  I 
cannot  fight  against  it  any  longer.  I  am  now  going 
to  be  a  white  man.    I  will  give  up  the  old  law." 

He  advanced  towards  the  desk,  and  the  captain, 
unable  to  restrain  his  emotions  of  pleasure,  gave  vent 
to  exclamations  of  gladness  by  slapping  his  hand  on 
the  desk,  while  tears  came  to  his  eyes  in  proof  of  his 
pleasure.  _  The  hand- shaking  that  followed  was  of 
that  kind  which  expressed  more  than  words.  A 
throng  gathered  around  Pi-a-noose,  congratulating 
him. 

Here  was  a  scene  that  w^ould  have  touched  the 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


170 


heart  of  man  possessed  of  any  feeling,  —  a  savage 
transformed  into  a  man  I  The  world  scoffs  at  such 
sentiments,  because  it  seldom  witnesses  a  spectacle  so 
grand  in  human  life.  Indians  who  have  passed  into 
that  new  life  are  like  white  men  newly  converted  to 
Christianity.  Our  meeting  adjourned  with  great  dem- 
onstrations of  pleasure  on  the  part  of  all  interested. 

The  captain  called  his  employes  together  for  prayer- 
meeting.  A  few  Indians  were  present,  taking  part 
in  the  exercises.  Strange  sounds,  —  those  of  prayer 
going  up  from  an  Indian  agency,  where,  in  years 
agone,  shouts  of  revelry  and  bacchanalian  songs  arose 
from  throats  that  were  used  to  the  language  of  the 
debauchee ;  even  officers,  if  history  be  true,  had  taken 
part  in  the  disgraceful  orgies. 

This  agency  has  two  classes  of  Indians  —  one  that 
are  anxious  to  advance;  the  other  who,  adopting  the 
religion  of  white  men,  are  loth  to  abandon  their  old 
habits.  The  former  are  fast  coming  up  to  the  estate 
of  civilized.  Christianized  manhood.  A  few  years 
more  and  the  treaty  will  expire,  and  then  those  who 
are  qualified  should  be  admitted  to  citizenship,  and 
the  remainder  removed  to  some  locality  where  they 
could  find  suitable  lands  for  cultivation.  This  will 
not  probably  be  done.  The  Government  owes  these 
people  a  debt  that  it  may  be  slow  in  paying. 

The  Dalles  fishery  should  be  returned  to  them, 
and  a  peaceful  enjoyment  of  its  privileges  guaranteed. 
Captain  Smith  should  be  permitted  to  remain  with 
those  for  whom  he  has  done  so  much,  and  who  regard 
him  with  reverence.  This  may  not  be  either,  because 
the  success  of  party  will  require  another  change  in 
the  policy. 


180 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


i!'-  I 


A  new  administration  may  change  the  whole  plan 
of  civilization,  and  remand  these  Indians  ba(!k  to  the 
care  of  their  first  masters,  or  into  the  hands  of  the 
politicians.  In  either  event,  it  will  be  a  misfortune  to 
those  who  have  advanced  so  much  under  the  humane 
pohcy  of  the  present  administration.  Warm  Springs 
has  had  but  two  agents  in  eight  years.  This  agency 
has  legends  and  romantic  stories  connected  with  its 
people,  one  of  which  I  propose  to  give  in  other  con- 
nections. 


'Hl-i 


CHAPTER    XII. 

NO  PLACE  LIKE  HOME  —  SQUAWS  IN  UOOPS  AND  CHIGNONS. 

Umatilla  Agency  has  been  mentioned  on  former 
pages.  I  return  to  it  now  to  say  something  more  of 
its  peojjle.  It  is  imder  the  management  of  the  Cath- 
olic Church.  It  has  had  but  four  agents  in  ten  years, 
is  on  a  gi-eat  thoroughfare  between  the  Columbia 
river  and  Idaho.  It  has  a  good  climate,  abundant 
resources,  and  is  of  great  value.     An  effort  was  made 


during 


1871,  to  induce  the  Indians  to  consent  to  a 


removal. 

The  council  convened  at  Umatilla  Agency,  Oregon, 
August  7th,  1871,  consisting  on  the  part  of  the  Gov- 
ernment, of  Superintendent  A.  B.  Meacham,  Agent 
N.  A.  Cornoyer,  of  Umatilla  Agency,  and  John  S. 
AYhite,  a  citizen  of  Umatilla  County,  Oregon. 

Hon.  Felix  Brunot,  chairman  of  Indian  Commis- 
sion, was  present ;  also,  many  of  the  citizens  of  the 
surrounding  country.  The  council  was  organized 
with  A.  B.  Meacham,  president,  Mathew  Davenport, 
secretary,  Donald  McKay  and  P.  B.  Pamburn,  as 
interpreters.  The  council  continued  six  days,  during 
which  time  the  questions  at  issue  were  fully  discussed. 
A  few  of  the  speeches  made  will  be  sufficient  to  give 
a  correct  understanding  of  the  argument  for  and 
against  the  sale  of  their  lands. 


Note.  —  See  Appendix  to  Chapter  XII.  for  the  several  speeches  on  the  2ub- 
ject  of  removal. 


182 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


?i      ,.t 


I  u  :!■  : 


I,  'J 


The  Indians  were  entirely  untrammelled,  and  spoke 
without  intimidation.  After  the  couneil  had  been  in 
session  lour  days,  in  reply  to  the  remarks  of  a  chief, 
that  they  were  not  ready  to  talk  yet,  it  was  said,  "  Wo 
want  you  to  talk  iirst  all  you  have  to  say." 

This  council  was  conducted  on  fair  terms.  The 
Indians  freely  expressed  their  wishes  and  mind 
on  the  subject,  and  the  white  men  accepted  tho 
result. 

On  all  the  western  coast  there  is  not  a  fairer  land 
than  Umatilla.  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  Indians  love 
their  homes  on  this  reservation.  They  arc,  however, 
somewhat  divided  in  religious  practice;  one  part  be- 
ing members  of  the  Catholic  Church,  the  remainder 
Dreamers, — followers  of  Smoheller.  Some  of  them 
have  made  advancement  in  civil  life. 

Wealth  has  been  to  them  a  curse,  and  not  a  bless- 
ing. Many  of  them  have  large  herds  of  horses  and 
cattle,  and  have  not  felt  the  necessity  for  labor.  The 
few  who  have  farms  are  prosperous,  the  land  being  of 
excellent  quality,  climate  favorable,  and  market  con- 
venient. At  the  Oregon  State  Fair,  1868,  some  of 
them  were  awarded  first  prizes  for  vegetables. 

Surrounded,  as  they  are,  by  white  men,  they  have 
been  worsted  by  the  contact. 

Unlike  the  Indians  of  Grand  Round,  v'ho  owe  much 
of  their  prosperity  to  the  citizens  for  whom  they 
labored,  the  Indians  of  Umatilla  are  a  rich,  thrifty, 
proud  people.  They  are  fond  of  sports  and  games, 
and  yield  slowly  to  the  advice  of  agents  to  abandon 
their  habits.  A  few  noticeable  instances,  however,  to 
the  contrary,  are  How-lish-wam-po,  We-nap-snoot,  and 
Pierre,  together  with  a  few  others,  who  live  in  houses 


WIGWAM    AND  WAHPAXn. 


183 


like  citizens.  Another  instance  is  that  of  the  widow 
of  Alex  McKay,  a  half-breed.  This  woman,  of  Indian 
blood,  has  been  educated  by  white  persons,  keeps 
house  in  a  respectable  manner,  dresses  after  fashion's 
style,  though  about  one  year  behind  it.  When  white 
ladies  adopt  new  fashions  this  "Susan"  waits  to  see 
whether  it  is  perpetuated,  and  then  adopts  it  just 
about  the  time  her  fairer  sisters  abandon  it.  During 
one  of  my  official  visits,  I  was  invited  to  "a  social" 
at  Susan's  house.  In  company  with  the  agent  and 
his  family  I  attended.  The  refreshments  served 
would  have  done  ciedit  to  any  house-wife  in  any  fron- 
tier country,  though  the  manner  of  serving  them  was 
rather  comical.  Each  person  went  to  the  table,  taking 
edibles  in  hand,  while  coffee  for  twenty  persons  was 
served  in,  perhaps,  half-a-dozen  cups,  passing  from 
one  to  another. 

The  Indian  women  who  were  present  were  dressed 
"a  la  Boston:"  painted  cheeks,  high  chignons,  im- 
mense tilting  hoops,  and  high-heeled  bootees. 

The  men  were  in  citizen  costume,  Susan  refusing 
to  admit  either  man  or  maiden  in  Indian  dress. 

The  dance,  or  hop,  was  also  Boston,  with  music  on 
a  violin  by  a  native  performer.  The  first  was  an  old- 
fashioned  "  French  four."  When  the  set  was  formed, 
they  occupied  the  floor,  leaving  little  room  for  wall- 
flowers. Dancing  is  a  part  of  Indian  life  in  which  they 
take  great  pleasure. 

In  this  instance  the  music  was  slow,  very  slow  at 
the  commencement,  but  increased  in  time,  growing 
faster,  while  faster  went  the  flying  hoops,  and  faster 
yet  went  the  music;  and  then  the  dancers  would  chase 
each  other  in  quick  succession   through  the  figure 


184 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


until  the  iiddles  failed  and  the  dancers,  exhausted,  sat 
down.     No  cold  kind  of  amusement,  that. 

After  refreshments  were  again  served,  another  set 
was  formed,  and  gone  through  in  the  same  manner, 
I  noticed  in  this  affair  that  the  maidens  selected 
partners. 

Susan,  in  reply  to  the  remark  on  the  change,  said 
that  "the  boys  liked  all  the  girls  for  partners,  but 
the  girls  don't  always  like  all  of  the  boys  for  part- 
ners. The  boys  have  had  their  own  way  long 
enough."  This  is  an  enterprising  woman,  and  be- 
lives  in  woman's  rights.  She  is  doing  her  people 
much  good,  in  their  amusements  especially.  !N^ature's 
children,  as  well  as  those  of  higher  society,  are 
blessed  with  joyful  spirits,  and  a  longing  for  recrea- 
tion. 

Susan  has  sense  enough  to  know  that  she  cannot, 
even  if  she  would,  prevent  dancing,  and  wisely  con- 
cludes to  draw  her  people  away  from  the  old,  un- 
couth, senseless  dances  of  savages.  Being  herself  a 
good  Catholic,  she  is  zealous  for  her  church,  and, 
since  dancing  is  not  prohibited,  she  succeeds  in  lead- 
ing them  into  communion  with  religious  people. 

Whether  the  hearts  of  these  converts  are  changed, 
I  know  not;  their  manners  and  customs  are,  and 
their  ideas  of  right  and  justice  much  improved.  For 
this  reason,  I  commend  this  woman  for  her  efforts  to 
break  up  old,  heathenish  customs. 


% 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


"HOW-LISH-WAMPO,"  KING  OF   THE  TURF  — A  DEAD   THING 

CRAWLS. 

Umatilla  is  known  to  be  a  great  country  for 
horses.  I  doubt  if  anywhere  on  this  continent  there 
can  be  found  horses  of  greater  speed  or  powers  of 
endurance. 

The  feats  performed  by  those  people  on  horseback 
are  wonderful,  and  past  belief  by  those  who  know 
western  horses. 

How-lish-wam-po,  chief  of  the  Cayuse  (Kiuse),  is 
owner  of  several  thrusand  horses.  He  is  a  stout- 
built  man,  has  a  dark  complexion,  wears  his  hair  just 
clear  of  his  shoulders,  and  is  now  past  middle  age. 

This  man  is  a  natural  horseman,  and  a  match  for 
any  man  of  any  race  in  matters  pertaining  to 
horses.  He  is  really  king  of  the  turf  in  the  Umatilla 
country. 

In  conversation  with  him  regarding  horses,  he 
remarked  to  me  that  he  had  horses  that  could  carry  a 
man  one  hundred  miles  in  a  day,  and  bring  him  home 
the  next  day.  T  shook  my  head,  when  he  proposed  to 
back  his  judgment  by  betting  twenty  horses.  I  am 
satisfied  that  he  could  have  won  the  wager. 

The  racing  habits  of  these  people  are  well  known, 
and  many  a  white  man  has  found  more  than  his 
match. 

I  remember,  one  day  in  the  spring  of  1867,  a  maa 


186 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


and  boy  passing  my  residence  on  the  mountain  bor- 
dering the  Reservation.  They  were  leading  a  fine- 
looking  horse,  with  a  fancy  blanket  over  him.  I  sus- 
pected his  purpose,  and  inquired  his  destination.  In 
his  answer  I  detected  a  rich  Irish  brogue  and  a  tone 
that  sounded  somewhat  familiar. 

"It's  meself  that's  going  down  to  the  Umatilla 
*Risivation,'  to  have  a  bit  of  sport  with  the  'Injuns.' 
You  see,  I've  been  in  Idaho  this  few  years,  and  I've 
made  me  a  nice  bit  of  a  stake;  and  I  thought  that, 
when  I'd  be  going  home,  T  might  stop  off  at  the 
Umatilla,  and  get  even  with  them  red-skinned  boys 
that  swindled  me  and  Mike  Connelly  out  of  a  few 
dollars  when  were  going  up, —  so  they  did." 

A  few  words  of  explanation,  and  I  recognized  him 
as  the  fellow  who  had,  in  partnership  v/ith  another, 
bought  an  Indian  pony,  of  which  mention  has  been 
made  in  a  previous  chapter.  I  felt  sympathy  for  him 
during  his  first  adventure^  and  I  did  this  time  also, 
and  said  to  him,  "Be  careful,  Pat;  you  will  lose  all 
your  money." 

"OchI  never  fear;  that  fellow  there  has  claned 
them  all  out  in  the  Boi-se  basin.  Oh,  but  he  is  a 
swange  cat,  so  h3  is;  and  he  will  show  them  how  to 
tr.ke  a  poor  man  in  when  he's  foot-sore  and  tired,  so 
he  will,  too.  ]^ow,  do  you  mind  what  I'm  telling 
yous?  That  .ad  here  can  tell  you  how  he  flies.  OchI 
but  he's  a  swate  one,  so  he  is." 

Pat  went  on  his  way  with  his  heart  full  of  hope. 
A  few  days  after,  the  boy  who  had  gone  down  with 
him  returned  homeward.  To  my  inquiry  about  how 
Pat  made  out,  racing  horses,  he  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders and  replied,  that  "<Ae  Injuns  cleaned  us  out/" 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


187 


Another  party,  who  had  heard  of  the  Umatilla  race 
horses,  passed  down  toward  the  Reservation.  This 
man's  name  was  French  Louie.  He  had  several  fine 
racers  with  him.  I  learned  iiis  destination,  and  gave 
him  a  few  words  of  caution.  But  he  replied  that  he 
"  knew  what  he  was  about."  He  had  "  a  horse  that 
had  '  swept  the  track,^  all  the  way  from  the  Missouri 
river,  at  Denver  City,  Salt  Lake,  Boi-se,  and  Baker 
City.  Never  fear.  I'll  teach  those  Indians  some- 
thing they  never  knew,  before  I  get  through  with 
them." 

Poor  fellow,  I  felt  sorry  for  him.  On  his  arrival  on 
the  Reservation  he  found  chances  to  invest  his  money. 
The  men  he  came  to  teach  were  apt  scholars  in  tricks 
that  are  shrewd. 

He  led  out  a  horse,  and  made  a  small  bet  and  losty 
as  he  intended  to.  The  next  run  the  Indians  played 
him  the  same  game,  until,  thinking  he  had  learned 
the  speed  of  their  horses,  Louie  proposed  to  wager 
all  his  money,  horses,  saddles,  and,  in  fact,  stake  every- 


thini 


upon  one  race. 


That  man  and  his  attendants  went  home  on  little 
ponies  which  the  Indians  gave  them  in  charity. 

How-lish-wam-po,  chief  of  the  Cayuses,is  the  owner 
of  a  horse  with  which  he  has  challenged  any  and 
every  sporting  man  in  the  country. 

Several  parties  have  visited  Umatilla,  bringing  with 
them  men  and  boys  to  drive  home  the  herds  of  Indian 
horses  they  were  "  going  to  win." 

One  party  imported  a  horse  for  the  express  purpose. 
He  made  known  his  desire,  and  he,  too,  soon  found 
opportunity  for  an  investment.  The  preliminaries 
were  arranged,  and  the  race  was  to  be  run  over  the 


188 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


V.    I 


M 


!    -Ti     i 


Indian  race-course,  which  was  located  on  the  bottom 
lands  of  Umatilla  river,  smooth,  level  turf,  over  two 
miles  and  a  half  in  length. 

At  one  end  of  this  course  a  post  wp^  planted,  round 
which  the  racers  were  to  turn,  and  come  back  to  the 
starting-point,  making  a  distance  of  a  little  ovei  five 
miles  and  a  quarter. 

Joe  Crabb,  the  owner  of  the  imported  horse,  had 
been  present  at  a  race  months  previous,  when  How- 
lish-wam-po  had  permitted  his  horse  to  be  beaten ;  and 
as  he  had  measured  the  distance,  marked  the  time, 
and  subsequently  tested  the  speed  of  his  ho'-se  with 
the  winner,  on  that  occasion,  he,  of  course,  had  a 
"  dead  thing." 

The  Avhite  men  came  with  groom  and  riders,  mak- 
ing a  camp  near  the  Indian,  standing  guard  over  his 
own  horse,  to  prevent  accident. 

The  Indians  were  not  so  careful  of  their  horse;  at 
least  Joe  Crabb  thought  they  were  not,  and,  since 
everything  is  fair  in  gambling  as  in  war,  he  con- 
cluded to  Tcnoio  for  himself  how  the  speed  of  these 
two  horses  would  compare. 

He  thought,  as  thousands  of  other  white  men  have, 
that  it  was  no  harm  to  cheat  an  "  Injun,"  no  matter 
by  what  means. 

There  is  a  general  belief  that  Indians  sleep  when 
their  eyes  are  shut,  and  especially  just  before  daylight. 

Sending  'i  careful,  trusty  man  to  get  the  Indian 
horse,  leaving  another  in  his  place,  he  led  his  own 
out  on  the  prairie,  and  made  a  few  trials  of  speed 
with  the  two.  The  result  was  satisfactory.  He 
found  that  his  horse  was  able  to  distance  the 
other. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


189 


Now  How-lish-wam-po  was  the  owner  of  two  horses 
very  nearly  alike,  —  one  the  racer;  the  other  half- 
brother  to  him,  but  not  so  fleet.  They  were  "  Pinto  " 
—  spotted  horses;  so  the  deception  was  complete. 

The  Indian  horses  are  never  stabled,  groomed,  shod, 
or  grain-fed.  Their  system  of  training  differs  from  a 
white  man's  very  much.  After  a  race  is  agreed  upon, 
the  animal  is  tied  up  to  a  stake  or  tree,  and  if  he  is 
fat,  they  starve  him  down,  giving  him  only  water.  If, 
however,  he  is  in  good  condition,  they  lead  him  out  to 
grass,  an  hour  or  so,  each  day,  and  at  nightfall  they 
run  him  over  the  course. 

In  this  instance  the  half-brother  was  tied  up  and 
put  in  training,  and  left  ^mguarded,  with  the  hope 
that  Crabb  would  steal  him  out,  and  try  his  speed. 
Sure  enough,  h*^  fell  into  the  trap  that  How-lish- 
wam-po  set  for  him.  The  real  race-horse  was  miles 
away,  under  proper  training. 

The  fame  of  this  wonderful  winner  had  spread  far 
and  wide,  as  did  the  news  of  the  approaching  contest. 

When  the  morning  agreed  upon  arrived,  the  roads 
leading  to  the  valley  of  Umatilla  gave  full  proof  of 
the  interest  the  people  of  the  surrounding  country  had 
in  this  important  affair. 

They  came  from  places  several  hundred  miles 
distant,  and  from  the  settlements  surrounding  the 
Reservation. 

The  little  towns  furnished  their  quota,  and  the  farm- 
ers excused  themselves  for  going,  hoping,  as  they  told 
their  wives  at  home,  that  they  should  meet  some  one 
with  whom  they  had  business.  And  through  various 
devices  nearly  every  man,  and  a  part  of  the  women, 
also,  found  excuse  to  be  there. 


190 


WIGWAM   AND  WAEPATH. 


:j,  'y, 


I  know  how  that  was  done ;  at  least,  I  heard  men 
tell  how  they  managed. 

People  who  never  gambled  with  dollars,  and  would 
blush  to  own  they  were  fast  people,  found  their  way 
to  Umatilla. 

The  race-course  which  I  have  described  was  par- 
allel with  a  low  range  of  gi*assy  hills,  that  rose  by 
gentle  slopes  fi'om  the  valley  to  an  altitude  of  fifty  to 
one  hundred  feet. 

Long  before  the  time  for  the  race,  carriages,  bug- 
gies, wagons,  and  horses,  might  be  seen  standing  on 
the  hills,  or  driving  over  the  green  sward,  while  at 
the  standing-point  was  assembled  a  great  motley 
crowd,  on  foot  and  horseback. 

The  Indians  were  in  their  gala-day  dress,  —  paints, 
feathers,  long  hair,  red  blankets;  in  fact,  it  was  a 
dress-parade  for  white  and  red  men  too. 

The  majiT^er  of  betting  at  an  Indian  race  differs 
somewhat  from  affairs  of  the  kind  among  white  men. 
One  man  is  selected  as  a  stake-holder  for  all  moneys. 
Horses  that  are  wagered  are  tied  together  and  put 
under  care  of  Indian  boys.  Coats,  blankets,  saddles, 
pistols,  knives,  and  all  kind  of-  personal  effects,  are 
thrown  into  a  common  heap  and  tied  together. 

As  the  starting-hour  approaches,  two  judges  are 
elected,  —  one  white  man  and  one  Indian.  But  two 
are  required,  since  the  horses  run  out,  turn  the  stake, 
and  come  back  to  the  starting-point.  The  first  horse 
tr  get  home  is  winner.  No  account  is  made  of  the 
,  iirt,  each  party  depending  on  his  shrewdness  to  get 
I'l.  better  in  this  part  of  the  race. 

Indians  are  enthusiastic  gamblers,  and  have  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  pride,  and  to  do  them  justice,  honor, 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


191 


nen 

way 

par- 
s  by 
"tyto 

bug- 
2:  on 
lie  at 
lotley 

)aints, 
was  a 

iffers 

men. 

|oneys. 

cl  put 

ddles, 

ts,  are 

|es  are 

|ut  two 
stake, 
horse 
I  of  the 
to  get 

a  cer- 
I  honor, 


as  well,  in  conducting  their  races.  "No  disputes  ever 
arise  among  themselves,  and  seldom  with  white  men, 
growing  out  of  misunderstandings,  either  about  start- 
ing or  the  outcome.  They  take  sides  with  their  own 
people  always,  and  bet,  when  the  chances  are  against 
them,  from  pride. 

The  prevailing  idea  that  they  are  always  cool  and 
stoical  is  not  correct.  They  become  very  much 
excited  at  horse-races,  but  not  generally  until  the 
race  begins.  Wliile  the  preliminaries  are  being 
arranged,  they  are  serious,  even  solemn-looking 
follows,  and  with  great  dignity  come  up  with  the 
money  to  bet.  "  Capable  of  dissembling,"  I  should 
think  they  were,  from  the  cool  face  of  How-lish- 
wam-po,  when  the  money  is  being  counted  out  by 
the  hundreds,  in  twenty-dollar  gold-pieces,  —  not  a 
few,  but  handfuls  of  twentica.  One  could  not  have 
detected  the  slightest  twinkle  in  his  eye,  or  other  sign 
that  he  knew  that  Joe  Crabb  had  stolen  his  horse,  and 
nm  him  secretly.  Cool,  calm,  earnest  as  if  he  were 
saying  mass,  this  chieftain  came  up  and  handed  over 
his  money  to  the  stake-holder,  while  numerous  bets 
were  being  arranged  between  the  other  Indians  and 
white  men.  Horses  Avere  wagered,  and  tied  to- 
gether, and  led  away.  Many  a  fellow  had  brought 
extras  with  him,  for  the  express  purpose  of  gambling, 
expecting  of  course  to  take  home  twice  the  number 
in  the  evening. 

Crabb  had  confided  his  secret  about  his  stolen  run 
to  a  few  friends,  and  advised  them  to  go  in,  and  win 
all  the  horses  they  wanted.  There  was  no  danger; 
he  knew  what  he  was  talking  about.  He  had  the 
Indian's  horse's  speed  by  time,  and  also  by  trial. 


192 


WIGWA3I  AND  WARPATH. 


1:0 


This  thing  leaked  out,  and  was  communicated  from 
one  to  another.  Some  pretty  good  men,  who  were 
not  accustomed  to  betting,  became  anxious  to  win 
a  pony  or  two,  and  laid  wagers  with  the  Indians. 

The  trick  that  Crabb  had  played  was  finally  made 
known  to  Ilow-lish-wam-po.  lie  and  his  people  were 
cooled  down,  and  seemed  anxious  to  have  the  race 
come  off  before  more  betting  was  done. 

This  made  the  white  men  more  anxious,  and  they 
urged,  boasted,  and  ridiculed,  until,  in  manifest  des- 
peration, the  Indians  began  to  bet  again,  and  the 
nolle  white  man  generously  took  advantage  of  the 
Indian's  hot  blood,  and  forced  him  to  make  many 
bets  that  he  appeared  to  shun. 

•  The  horses  were  brought  out  to  start,  and  while 
the  imported  horse  of  Crabb's  looked  every  inch  a 
racer,  the  other  stood  with  head  down,  a  rough- 
haired,  uncouth  brute,  that  appeared  then  to  be  a 
cross  between  ox  and  horse. 

The  presence  and  appearance  of  the  horses  was 
the  signal  for  another  charge  on  the  Indians,  and  a  few 
white  friends  they  had,  who,  having  learned  from  the 
chief,  the  truth  of  Crabb's  trick,  came,  in  sympathy 
for  the  Indian,  to  his  rescue. 

Money,  coats,  hats,  saddles,  pistols,  pocket-laiives, 
cattle,  horses,  and  all  kinds  of  property,  were  staked 
on  the  race. 

The  Indians,  in  their  apparent  desperation,  drove 
up  another  band  of  ponies,  and  in  madness  wagered 
them  also. 

Those  of  my  readers  who  are  accustomed  to  exhi- 
bitions around  our  "  fair  grounds,"  on  days  of  "  trials 
of  speed,"  may  have  some  idea  of  the  scene  I  am 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


1!)3 


trying  to  describe,  except  that  few  of  them  have  ever 
seen  so  many  horses  tied  together,  and  so  large  a  pile 
of  coats,  blankets  and  saddles,  as  were  staked  upon 
this  occasion. 

When  the  final  starting-time  came,  a  pure-minded, 
innocent  man  would  have  felt  great  pity  for  the  pooi*, 
dejected-looking  Indians,  at  the  sight  of  their  faces, 
now  so  full  of  anxiety ;  and,  certainly ,  the  Pinto,  who 
stood  so  unconcerned,  on  which  they  had  staked  so 
much,  did  not  promise  any  hope;  while  his  competitor 
was  stripped  of  his  blanket,  disclosing  a  nice  little 
jockey  saddle,  and  silver-mounted  bridle,  liis  whole 
bearing  indicating  his  superiority. 

His  thin  nostrils,  pointed  ears,  and  arched  neck, 
sleek  coat,  and  polished  limbs,  that  touched  the  ground 
with  burnished  steel,  disdaining  to  stand  still,  while 
his  gayly-dressed  rider,  with  white  pants  tucked  into 
boots  embellished  with  silver-plated  spurs;  on  his 
head  a  blue  cap,  and  with  crimson  jacket,  was  being 
mounted,  requiring  two  or  three  experts  to  assist,  so 
restless  was  this  fine,  thorough-bred  to  throw  dirt 
into  the  eyes  of  the  sleepy-looking  Indian  horse, 
which  stood  unmoved,  uncovered,  without  saddle  or 
bridle,  or  anything,  save  a  small  hair  rope  on  his 
lower  jaw,  his  mane  and  tail  unkempt,  his  coat  rough 
and  ill-looking. 

On  his  right  side  stood  a  little  Indian  boy,  with 
head  close-shaved,  a  blanket  around  him,  and  to  all 
appearances  unconscious  that  anything  unusual  was 
expected. 

The  other  rider's  horse  was  making  furious  plunges 
to  get  away. 

How-lish-wam-po  was  in  no  hurry,  really;  indeed 


194 


WIGWAM    ANO    WAKPATII. 


things  were  going  very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of 
that  distinguished  individual. 

He  was  willing  to  sec  the  other  man's  horse  chafo 
and  fret,  —  the  more  the  better;  and  he  cared  nothing 
for  the  sponge  that  was  used  to  moisten  the  mouth  of 
the  great  racer. 

Look  away  down  the  long  line  of  white  men  and 
Indians;  and  on  the  low  hills,  above,  see  the  crowd 
eager  to  witness  the  first  jump ! 

The  chief  gives  a  quiet  signal  to  the  Indian  boy. 
The  blanket  dropped  from  the  boy's  shouldurts,  and 
a  yellow-skinned,  gaunt-looking  sprite  bestrode  the 
Indian  horse,  holding  in  his  left  hand  the  hair  rope, 
that  was  to  serve  him  f  jr  a  bridle,  and  in  his  right  a 
small  bundle  of  dried  willows. 

Presto  1  The  stupid-looking  brute  is  instantly 
transformed  into  a  beautiful  animated  racer,  flis 
eyes  seemed  almost  human.  His  ears  did  not  droop 
now,  but  by  their  quick  alternate  motion  giving  signs 
of  readiness,  together  with  the  stamping  of  his  feet, 
slowly  at  first,  but  faster  and  more  impatiently  the 
moment  it  was  intimated  he  might  go ;  and  the  other 
was  making  repeated  efforts  to  escape,  his  masters 
manoeuvring  for  the  advantage. 

The  little  Indian  boy  managed  his  horse  alone  as  the 
chief  gave  quiet  signs.  Three  times  had  they  come 
up  to  the  scratch  without  a  start.  Crabb  seemed  now 
very  solicitous  about  the  race.  I  think,  prol.ably,  he 
had  by  this  time  found  the  "hornet  in  his  hat;  "  at 
all  events,  he  was  pale,  and  his  rider  exhibited  signs 
of  uneasiness. 

At  length,  thinking  to  take  what  western  sports- 
men call  a  "  bulge,"  he  said,  "  Ready  I "  —  "  Go,"  said 


antly 
ftis 

roop 
signs 

feet, 
y  the 

other 
asters 

las  the 
come 
kl  now 
)ly,  he 

k;"  ^* 

signs 

|sports- 
."  said 


WKiWAM    AM)    WAIU'ATH. 


197 


the  little  Indian  boy,  and  away  wont  twenty  thousand 
dollars  in  the  heels  of  the  Indian  horse,  twenty  feet 
ahead  before  the  other  crossed  the  mark,  making  the 
gap  wider  at  every  bound. 

Away  they  sped,  like  flying  birds-.  The  crowd 
joined  in  shouts  and  hurras,  hundreds  of  all  colors 
falling  in  Ix-hind  and  following  up. 

Away  go  the  flying  hoi'ses,  and  several  thousand 
eyes  following  the  yelloio  rider,  still  ahead,  as  they  grow 
smaller  and  smaller  in  the  distance,  until  the  Indian 
horse  turns  the  stake  at  the  farther  end  in  advance. 
Now  they  come,  increasing  in  size  to  the  eye  xis  they 
approach,  the  yellow  rider  still  in  advance.  Crabb 
gasps  for  breath,  and  declares  that  his  horse  "will 
yet  win." 

The  eagle  eye  of  the  old  chief  lights  up  as  they 
come  nearer,  his  rider  still  leading.  Excitement  is  now 
beyond  words  to  tell.  Look  again!  —  the  Indian  boy 
comes  alone,  rattling  his  dry  willows  over  a  horse  that 
was  making  the  fastest  time  on  record,  considering 
the  nature  of  the  turf. 

The  Indians  along  the  line  fell  in,  and  ran  beside 
the  victorious  racer,  encouraging  him  with  wild,  un- 
earthly shouts,  while  he  comes  to  the  starting-point, 
running  the  five  miles  and  one-fourth  and  eighty-three 
yards  in  the  unprecedented  time  of  nine  minutes  and 
fifty -one  seconds;  winning  the  race  and  money,  much 
to  the  joy  of  the  Indians  and  their  few  friends,  and  to 
the  grief  of  Crabb  and  his  many  friends.  He,  with- 
out waiting  to  hear  from  judges,  ran  down  the  track 
nearly  a  mile,  and,  rushing  up  to  the  gay  jockey,  with 
silver  spurs,  white  pants,  blue  cap,  and  crimson  jacket, 
who  had  dismounted,  and  was  leading  the  now  docile, 


19« 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATH. 


fine-bloodcd  English  racer  by  his  silver  mountings, 
inquired,  "What's  the  matter,  Jimmy?"  —  "Matter? 
Why,  this  hoss  can't  run  a  bit.  That's  what's  the 
matter." 

Do  my  readers  wonder  now  that  so  many  white 
men,  along  the  frontier  line,  declare  that  all  good 
"Injins  are  three  feet  under  the  ground  "? 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  it  is  projjer  to  state  that 
How-lish-wam-po  gave  back  to  Crabb  the  saddle- 
horse  he  had  won  from  him,  and  also  money  to  travel 
on;  and  with  a  woi'd  of  caution  about  stealing  out 
his  competitor's  horse,  and  having  a  race  all  alone, 
remarking  dryly, Mc-si-ka  wake  ciini-tux  ic-ta  mamook 
ni-ka  tru-i-tan  klat-a-wa  (You  did  not  know  how  to 
make  my  horse  run).  Cla-hoy-um,  Crabb  "  (Good-by, 
Crabb). 

I  will  further  state  that  many  years  ago  these  In- 
dians had  exchange-^  horses  with  emigrants  going 
into  Oregon,  across  the  plains,  and  that  this  celebrated 
Indian  race-horse  is  a  half-breed. 

The  old  chief  refused  to  sell  him,  saying,  "I  don't 
need  money.  I  have  plenty,  I  am  a  chief.  I  have 
got  the  fastest  horses  in  the  world.  I  bet  one 
thousand  horses  I  can  beat  any  man  running  houses." 

He  refused  an  offer  of  five  thousand  dollars  for  this 
renowned  courser.  Several  efforts  have  been  made  to 
induce  him  to  take  his  horse  to  the  State  fair. 

He  at  one  time  consen^  ed,  saying,  "  I  will  take  my 
horse  just  to  show  the  white  men  what  a  race-horse 
is."  But  he  was  iniwell  when  the  time  came,  and 
failed  to  go. 

The  question  has  been  raised,  whether  this  horse 
actually  made  the  time  reported.    I  helieve  he  did. 


WiaWAM  AND   WAKPATH. 


199 


Competent  white  men  have  measured  the  course  care- 
fully, and  several  persons  kept  the  time,  none  of  whom 
marked  over  ten  minutes,  while  others  marked  less 
than  nine-fifty. 

If  any  man  is  sceptical,  he  can  find  a  chance  to 
leave  some  money  with  How-lish-wam-po.  The  chief 
don't  need  it,  because  he  has  thousands  of  dollars 
buried,  that  once  belonged  to  white  men. 

But  he  is  human,  and  will  take  all  that  is  offered, 
on  the  terms  Joe  Crabb  made  with  him. 

If  there  are  real  smart  sports  anywhere  who  desire 
a  fine  band  of  Indian  horses,  they  have  here  a  chance 
to  obtain  them,  without  stealing.  Take  your  race- 
horses to  Umatilla,  and  you  won't  wait  long.  The 
probabilities  are,  that  you  may  be  disgusted  with  the 
country  very  soon. 

For  the  benefit,  it  may  be,  of  some  of  my  readers,  I 
would  suggest  that  you  have  only  to  lead  out  the 
horse  you  propose  running,  and  name  the  amount  and 
distance.  The  Indians  will  find  the  horse  to  match 
the  amount  and  distance,  anywhere  from  fifty  yards 
to  one  hundred  miles.  Don't  be  tender-hearted  if 
you  should  win  "  few  hundred  ponies.  Thev  won't 
miss  them.  They  only  loan  them  to  you  to  gamble 
on. 

Having  a  long-standing  acquaintance  with  How- 
lish-wam-po,  as  a  neighbor,  and  subsequent!}^  ai: 
his  "high  tyee  chief,"  I  am  authorized  to  say  to 
Commodore  Vanderbilt,  Robert  Bonner,  "Uncle" 
Harper,  Rev.  W.  H.  II.  Murray,  or  any  other  horse- 
fancier,  clerical  or  unclerical,  that  a  sufficient  forfeit 
will  be  dejiosited  by  Ilow-lish-wam-po,  and  his  friends, 
in  any  bank  m  Oregon,  to  defray  the  expenses  of  any 


200 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


r     i 


party  who  will  measure  speed  with  his  horse,  on  his 
own  turf,  five  and  a  quarter  miles,  turning  a  stake 
midway  the  race ;  said  expense  to  be  paid  on  the  con- 
dition that  the  said  parties  win  the  race;  in  which 
event  they  can  return  with  ponies  enough  to  over- 
load the  Union  Pacific  Kailroad,  and  make  business 
for  the  "Erie"  for  a  long  time  to  come;  with  the  pro- 
viso that  Ilow-lish-wam-po's  race-horse  is  alive  and 
in  condition  to  make  the  run,  as  we  believe  that  he  is 
at  this  present  writing,  1874. 

Parties  seeking  investments  of  the  kind  will  recei\e 
prompt  attention  by  addressing  How-lish-wam-po, 
chief  of  Cay  use,  Umatilla  Reservation,  Oregon,  care 
Joe  Crahh,  Esq. 

This  latter  gentleman  has  been  hunting  this  kind 
of  a  contract,  in  behalf  of  Ilow-lish-wam-po,  for  sev- 
eral months,  unsuccessfully. 

The  Umatilla  Indians  rear  horses  by  the  thousands, 
never  feeding  or  stabling,  but  always  herding  them, 
when  the  owner  has  enough  to  justify  the  expense  of 
hiring  an  Indian  herder.  The  horses  run  in  bands 
of  fifty  to  one  hundred,  and  seldom  mix  to  any  con- 
siderable extent.  If,  however,  there  should  be  several 
bands  corralled  together,  the  master-horse  of  each 
band  soon  separates  them.  When  turned  out  on  the 
plains  they  are  very  exacting,  and  many  a  battle  is 
fought  by  these  long-maned  captains,  in  defence,  or 
to  prevent,  the  capture,  by  the  others,  of  some  one  of 
their  own. 

Cayuse  horses  are  small,  from  twelve  to  fifteen 
hands  high;  are  of  every  shade  of  color,  and  many 
of  them  white  or  spotted,  bald-faced,  white-legged 
and  glass-eyed.      They  are  spirited,  though    easily 


tv  ^:.\ 


WIGWAM  AND  AVARPATH. 


201 


broken  to  the  saddle  or  harness.  As  saddle-horses 
they  are  far  superior  to  the  common  American  horse, 
and  for  speed  and  power  of  endurance  they  have  no 
equals. 

The  Indians  are  accurate  judges  of  the  value  of  their 
animals  and  have  strong  attachments  for  them ;  seldom 
disposing  of  a  favorite  except  in  case  of  real  necessity. 

The  small  scurvy  ponies  are  sold  in  large  numbers, 
for  prices  ranging  from  five  to  twenty  dollars  each.  A 
medium-sized  saddle-horse  sells  for  about  forty  dollars ; 
a  first- r..*^o  ■  se,  one  hundred  dollars;  and  if  a  well- 
tried  ani.  ai  u^at  can  make  one  hundred  miles  one  day, 
and  repeat  it  the  next,  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

The  small,  low-priced  ponies  are  capable  of  carry- 
ing a  common  man  all  day  long,  without  spur  or  whip. 
They  are  bought  by  white  men  for  children's  use,  and 
for  ladies'  palfreys.  They  are  docile,  tractable,  and 
fond  of  being  petted.  I  know  a  small  white  pony, 
with  long  mane,  and  not  more  than  forty  inches  in 
height,  that  was  taught  many  tricks, — going  through 
the  hotel  dining-room,  kitchen,  and  parlor;  sometim(3s 
following  his  litrlf^  naslress  upstairs;  lying  down 
and  playing  dead  h  : .,  1  neeling  for  prayers,  asking 
for  sugar^  by  signs;  in  fr  ■:(,,  a  fine  pet.  And  yet  the 
hiile  bellow  wopM  canter  otf  mile  after  mile  with  his 
mistress. 

Major  Barnhart,  of  Umatilla,  owned  a  small  Cayuse, 
about  thirteen  hands  high,  that  would  gallop  to  the 
CoUimbia  river,  thirty-one  miles,  in  two  hours,  with  a 
man  on  his  back,  nd  come  back  again  at  the  same 
gait. 

I  once  made  an  investment  of  five  dollars  in  an  un- 
broken pony,  paid  an  Indian  one  dollar  to  ride  her  a 


202 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


I: 


K: 


few  minutes,  took  her  home  and  gave  her  to  a  little 
daughter,  Who  named  her  "  Cinderella."  After  a  few 
days'  petting,  she  often  mounted  and  rode  her  fear- 
lessly. 

This  one  was  a  bright  bay,  with  a  small  star  in  the 
forehead,  with  long  mane  extending  below  the  neck, 
a  foretop  reaching  down  to  its  nose. 

The  Indians  teach  their  horses,  by  kindness,  to  be 
very  gentle.  Often  on  the  visitr  %  hich  they  make  to 
old  homes,  a  little  pic-i-ni-ne  (cLi  !  securely  fas- 
tened to  the  Indian  saddle,  and  the  .iorse  is  turned 
loose  with  the  band. 

On  all  their  journeys  they  drive  bands  of  ponies, 
presenting  a  grotesque  scene:  horses  of  all  ages, 
sizes,  and  colors;  some  of  them  loaded  with  camp 
equipage,  including  cooking  arrangements,  tin  pans, 
kettles,  baskets;  also  bedding  of  blankets,  skins  of 
animals;  always  the  rush  matting  to  cover  the  poles 
of  the  lodge,  and  going  i3ell-mell,  trotting  or  gallop- 
ing. The  women  are  chiel  managers,  packing  and 
driving  the  horses. 

An  Indian  woman's  outfit  for  horseback  riding  is 
a  saddle  with  two  pommels,  one  in  front,  the  other  in 
the  rear,  and  about  eight  inches  high.  The  saddles 
are  elaborately  mounted  with  covers  of  dressed  elk- 
skins,  trimmed  profusely  with  beads,  while  the  lower 
portion  is  cut  into  a  fringe,  sometimes  long  enough  to 
reach  the  ground. 

These  people  seldom  use  a  bridle,  but,  instead,  a 
small  rope,  made  of  horsehair,  in  the  making  of 
which  they  display  great  taste.  It  is  fastened  with 
a  double  loop,  around  the  horse's  lower  jaw.  They 
carry,  as  an  ornament,  a  whip,  differing  from  ladies 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATII. 


203 


riding- whips  in  this,  that  the  Indian  woman's  whip  is 
made  of  a  stick  twelve  inches  long,  with  a  string 
attached  to  the  small  end,  to  secure  it  to  the  wrist. 
The  other,  or  larger  end,  is  bored  to  a  depth  of  a  few 
inches,  and  in  the  hole  is  inserted  two  thongs  of 
dressed  elk-skin,  or  leather,  two  inches  wide  and 
twenty  in  length. 

The  Indian  woman  is  last  to  leave  camp  in  the 
morning,  and  has,  perhaps,  other  reasons,  than  her 
duties  as  drudge,  to  detain  her;  for  she  is  a  woman, 
and  depends  somewhat  on  her  personal  appearance 
especially  if  she  is  unmarried.  If,  however,  she  is 
married,  she  don't  care  much  more  about  her  appear- 
ance than  other  married  women,  unless,  indeed,  she 
may  have  hopes  of  being  a  widow  some  day.  Then 
she  don't  do  more  than  other  folks  w^e  often  see,  who 
wish  to  become  widows,  said  wish  being  expressed 
by  feathers,  and  paint  on  the  face  and  hair. 

However,  these  Umatilla  Indian  maidens,  who  have 
not  abandoned  the  savage  habits  of  their  people,  are 
proud  and  dressy,  and  they  carry  with  them,  as  do 
the  young  men,  looking-glasses,  and  pomatums,  the 
latter  made  of  deer's  tallow  or  bear's  grease. 

They  also,  I  mean  young  people  especially,  carry 
red  paints.  Take,  for  illustration,  a  young  Indian 
maiden  of  Chief  Homli's  band,  when  on  the  annual 
visit  to  Grand  Round  valley. 

Before  leaving  camp  she  besmears  her  hair  with 
tallow  and  red  paint,  and  her  cheeks  with  the  latter. 
Her  frock,  made  loose,  without  corset  or  stays,  is 
richly  embroidered  with  gay-colored  ribboiis  and 
beads,  and  rings  of  huge  size,  with  bracelets  on  her 
wrists  and  arms. 


204 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


I  f  i 


I  .;•; 


Then  suppose  you  see  her  mount  a  gayly  capari- 
soned horse,  from  the  right-hand  side,  climbing  up 
with  one  foot  over  the  high  saddle,  sitting  astride, 
and,  without  requiring  a  young  gent  to  hold  the  horse, 
place  her  beaded-moccasined  feet  in  the  stirrups,  and, 
drawing  up  the  parti-colored  hair  rope.,  dash  oflf  at 
what  some  folks  would  call  breakneck  speed,  to  join 
the  caravan. 

'No  young  man  had  ever  caught  up  her  horse  from 
the  prairie,  much  less  saddled  it.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  she  has  probably  brought  up  and  saddled  for 
her  father,  brother,  or  friend,  a  horse  and  prepared  it 
for  the  master's  use. 

The  young  men  who  are  peers  of  this  girl  do  not 
wait  to  see  her  mounted  and  then  bear  her  company. 
Half  an  hour  before,  they  had  thrown  themselves  on 
prancing  steeds,  and  with  painted  cheeks,  hair  flow- 
ing, embellished  with  feathers,  and  necklaces  of  bears' 
claws,  and  brass  rings,  and  most  prominent  of  all,  a 
looking-glass,  suspended  by  a  string  around  the  neck. 

The  women  manage  the  train  and  unpack  the 
horses,  make  the  lodge  in  which  to  camp,  while  their 
masters  ride  along  carelessly,  and  stop  to  talk  with 
travellers  whom  they  meet;  or  it  may  be  dismount  at 
some  way-side  house  and  wait  until  it  is  tune  to  start 
for  the  camp,  where  the  lodge  is  built  for  the  night. 

There  are,  however,  Indian  men  who  are  servants, 
and  these  assist  the  women. 

When  the  site  of  the  camp  is  reached,  our  young 
squaw  dismounts,  and,  throwing  off  her  fine  clothes, 
goes  to  work  in  earnest,  preparing  the  evening  meal, 
while  the  gay  young  men,  and  the  old  ones,  too, 
lounge  and  smoke  unconcerned. 


WIGWAM    AND    WARPATH. 


205 


young 
othes, 
meal, 

!S,  too, 


Remember,  I  am  speaking  now  of  Homli's  baud 
of  the  Walla- Wallas.  There  are  Christianized  Indi- 
ans on  Umatilla  Reservation,  that  have  left  behind 
them  their  primitive  habits,  —  men  of  intelligence, 
whose  credit  is  good  for  any  reasonable  amomit  in 
business  transactions,  and  who  occupy  houses  like 
civilized  people.  But  the  major  portion  are  still 
wrapped  in  blankets,  and  thoroughly  attached  to  the 
old  customs  and  habits  of  their  ancestors.  They 
have  a  magnificent  countiy,  and  are  surrounded  by 
enterprising  white  men,  who  would  make  this  land 
of  the  Umatilla  the  most  beautiful  on  the  Pacific 
coast. 

It  may  be  many  years  before  these  people  will  con- 
sent to  remove.  In  one  sense  it  does  seem  to  be  a 
wrong,  that  so  many  prosperous  homes  as  this  should 
afibrd,  must  be  unoccupied. 

In  another  sense  it  is  right,  at  least  in  that  those 
who  live  upon  it  now  ai'e  the  lawful  owners,  and 
therefore  have  a  right  to  raise  horses  on  land  that  is 
worth  five,  ten,  and  twenty  dollars  per  acre,  if  they 
choose.  So  long  as  they  adhere  to  their  old  ways,  no 
improvements  may  be  expected.  They  will  continue  to 
raise  horses  and  cattle,  to  drink  whiskey  and  gamble, 
becoming  more  and  more  demoralized  year  by  year ; 
and  in  the  mean  time  vicious  white  men  will  impose 
on  them,  often  provoking  quarrels,  until  some  politi- 
cal change  is  made  in  the  afiairs  of  the  Government, 
and  the  present  humane  policy  toward  them  will  be 
abandoned,  and  then  their  land  -vill  become  the  spoils 
of  the  white  man.  It  were  better  for  these  people 
that  they  had  a  home  somewhere  out  of  the  Hue  of 
travel  and  commerce;  or,  at  least,  those  who  continu- 


206 


WIOWiViM    AND    WARPATH. 


I 


ll!  t 


ally  reject  civilization.  It  is  not  to  the  disadvantage 
of  those  whose  hearts  are  changed  that  they  should 
remain.  While  the  Government  protects  them  they 
will  enjoy  the  advantage  of  intercourse  with  business 
men.  With  those,  however,  who  do  not  evince  a  wil- 
lingness to  become  civilized,  it  is  only  a  question  of 
time,  when  they  will  waste  away,  and  finally  lose  the 
grand  patrimony  they  now  possess. 

I  do  not  mean  that  it  will  ever  be  taken  by  force  of 
arms,  for  the  sentiments  of  justice  and  right  arc  too 
d-.  2ply  seated  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of  the  peoj)le  of 
the  frontier  to  permit  any  unjustifiable  act  of  this 
kind  to  be  committed;  but  designing  men  will,  as 
they  have  ever  done,  involve  good  citizens  in  diffi- 
culties with  Indians,  who,  so  long  as  they  cling  to 
their  superstitious  religion,  will  retaliate,  shouting 
"blood  for  blood; "  and  then  the  cry  of  extermination 
will  be  extorted  from  good  men,  who  do  not  and 
cannot  understand  or  recognize  this  unjust  mode  of 
redress. 

Under  the  treaty  with  these  Indians,  they  are  to 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  hunting  and  grazing  on  the 
public  domain  in  common  with  citizens;  but  this 
right  is  scarcely  acknowledged  by  the  settlers  of 
places  they  visit,  under  the  treaty. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


SNAKE  WAR  — FIGHTING  THE   DEVIL    WITH   FIRE. 


The  southwestern  portion  of  Oregon  is  a  vast 
plain,  whose  general  altitude  is  nearly  four  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  A  gi'cater  part  of  it 
is  an  uninhabited  wilderness  of  sage-brush  desert.  A 
few  hundred  Indians  have  held  it  for  generations, 
except  the  narrow  belts  of  arable  lands  along  the 
streams.  Th'^a-e,  Indians  are  commonly  called 
"  Snakes,"  deriving  the  name  from  the  principal  river 
of  the  country. 

The  overland  route  to  Oregon  traverses  this  region 
for  hundreds  of  miles.   Many  years  ago  the  emigrants 


became 


engaged  in 


a  war  with  the  few  scatterinsr 


bands  of  Indians  along  the  route,  and  for  many  years 
hostilities  continued.  The  origin  of  the  fii'st  trouble 
is  not  known  by  white  man's  authority.  The  Indian 
story  is  to  the  effect  that  white  men  began  it  to  re- 
cover stock,  which  they,  the  Indians,  had  purchased 
from  other  tribes.  This  may  be  correct,  and  may 
not;  but  that  a  relentless  war  was  carried  on  for 
years  there  is  no  doubt,  and,  that  in  the  aggregate, 
the  Indians  got  the  better  of  it. 

The  great  overlpnd  route  to  the  mining  regions  of 
Idaho  in  early  days  passed  through  this  hostile  coun- 
try. Many  valuable  lives  were  lost,  and  a  great  many 
hundreds  of  horses,  mules,  and  caiile  Avere  stolen. 
The  Snakes  were  daring  enemies,  and  brave  fellows 


208 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


on  the  warpath,  successful  in  making  reprisals,  and, 
having  nothing  hut  their  lives  to  lose,  were  bold  and 
audacious  scouts.  They  kept  a  frontier  line  of  sev- 
eral hundred  miles  in  length  in  constant  alarm.  Life 
was  unsafe  even  within  the  lines  of  settlement. 

Owyhee-Idaho  country  was  one  of  the  bloody  bat- 
tle-grounds, the  Indians  waylaying  travellers  along 
the  roads,  and  from  cover  of  sage-brush,  or  ledge  of 
rocks,  firing  on  them,  and,  in  several  instances,  at- 
tacking stages  loaded  with  passengers.  At  one  time 
the  stage  was  fired  into  on  the  road  between  Boise 
City  and  Silver  City.  The  driver  —  Charley  AVins- 
low  —  and  four  passengers  were  killed  and  scal|.~fl. 
At  another  time,  within  ten  miles  of  a  mining  town 
of  two  thousand  inhabitants,  Nathan  Dixon,  the 
driver  of  a  stage-coach,  was  shot  through  the  body 
and  fell  in  the  boot  of  the  stage,  a  passenger  by  his 
side  taking  the  lines  and  driving  the  stage-load  of 
passengers  out  of  danger.  Poor  "  Kate ! "  —  he  paid 
the  penalty  of  too  brave  a  heart.  He  had  been  offered 
an  escort  at  the  station  but  one  mile  away,  and  de- 
clined it,  saying,  "He  was  not  made  to  be  killed  by 
Indians." 

H.  C.  Scott,  a  ranchman  living  on  Burnt  river, 
Oregon,  with  his  family,  consisting  of  a  wife  and  two 
children,  went  in  a  two-horse  wagon  to  visit  a  neigh- 
bor two  miles  away.  On  their  return  they  were  fired 
on  by  Snake  Indians.  Mr.  Scott  received  his  death- 
wound;  his  wife  was  also  shot  through  the  body,  but 
with  heroic  coolness  took  the  lines  of  the  team,  and 
drove  home,  with  her  murdered  husband  struggling  in 
death  on  the  floor  of  the  wagon,  his  blood  sprinkling 
her  children  and  herself.     She  lived  but  a  few  hours 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


209 


and  was  buried  with  him.  The  children  were  un- 
harmed, although  several  volleys  were  discharged 
after  the  flying  team  and  its  load. 

On  the  road  from  "The  Dalles"  to  Cafton  city 
many  skirmishes  were  had  with  these  Indians.  On 
one  occasion  they  attacked  the  stage  carrying  passen- 
gers and  the  United  States  mail.  The  driver,  Mr. 
Wheeler,  was  shot  with  a  slug  cut  from  an  iron 
rod  that  had  been  used  to  secure  the  tail-board 
of  a  freight-wagon.  The  slug  passed  through  his 
face,  carrying  with  it  several  teeth  from  both  sides  of 
his  upper  jaw.  Strange  to  relate,  he  drove  his  team 
out  of  further  danger. 

Not  unfrequent'y  freighters  would  lose  the  stock  of 
entire  trains,  numbering  scores  of  animals.  Packers, 
too,  lost  their  mule-trains.  Lone  horsemen  were  cut 
off,  and  murder,  blood  and  theft  reigned  supreme  in 
the  several  routes  through  the  "Snake  country." 

A  party  of  eighty-four  Chinamen  were  killed  while 
en  route  to  the  mines  of  Idaho.  Helpless,  unarmed 
Chinamen,  they  are  game  for  the  savage  red  men,  and 
the  noble-hearted  white  men  also.  One  man,  com- 
menting on  this  occurrence,  remarked  that,  "they 
had  no  business  to  be  Chinamen.  The  more  the 
Indians  killed,  the  better."  Instances  of  Indian 
butchery  might  be  multiplied. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  they  in  turn  suffered  in  the 
same  inhuman  manner.  Independent  companies  were 
organized  to  punish  them,  and  punishment  was  inflicted 
with  ruthless  vengeance.  Innocent,  harmless  Indians 
were  murdered  by  these  companies.  Women  were 
captured,  or  put  to  death.  '  One  circumstance  will 
illustrate  this  feature  of  Indian  warfare,  as  carried  on 


210 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


i!    3'    11 


by  the  white  men.  JcffStandiford,  of  Idaho  City,  went 
in  pursuit  of  savages  with  a  company  of  white  men 
and  friendly  Indians. 

A  camp  was  found  and  attacked.  The  men  escaped, 
the  women  and  children  were  captured.  The  old, 
homely  women  were  shot,  and  killed;  the  children  were 
awarded  to  the  whites  who  distinguished  themselves 
in  their  great  battle  against  helpless  women  and  chil- 
dren. The  better-looking  squaws  were  sold  to  the 
highest  bidder  for  gold  dust  to  pay  the  expenses  of 
the  expedition.  But  the  fame  of  the  company  was 
etsablished  as  "  Indian  fighters."  When  we  hear  of 
Indians  doing  such  deeds,  we  cry  "extermination," 
nor  stop  to  learn  the  provocation. 

This  kind  of  Indian  war  continued  several  years, 
during  the  "great  rebellion."  One  feature  of  sani- 
tary cm'c  on  the  part  of  the  Snake  Lidians  I  do  not 
remember  to  have  seen  in  print.  "While  they  were 
poorly  armed,  and  were  cut  off  from  supplies  of  am- 
munition, and  especially  of  lead,  they  cut  up  iron  rods 
from  captured  wagons,  without  any  forges,  into  bul- 
lets. On  the  persons  of  Indian  warriors  who  were 
killed  and  captured,  —  I  say  captured,  because  many 
were  killed  and  carried  off  by  their  friends,  to  prevent 
mutilation,  and  because  of  their  fidelity  to  each  other, 
—  were  found  iron  slugs,  stones  that  were  cut  into 
the  shape  of  balls,  and  wooden  plugs  one  or  two 
inches  in  length,  and  one  inch  in  diameter.  These 
latter  were  used  by  them  to  stop  hemorrhage.  When 
a  warrior  was  struck  by  a  bullet,  he  immediately 
inserted  a  wooden  stopper  in  the  wound.  Rude  sur- 
gical treatment  this,  and  yet  they  claim  it  to  be  of 
great  value. 


WIGWAM    AND    WAUrATII. 


sn 


years, 
f  sani- 
1  do  not 
were 
of  am- 
)n  rods 
to  bul- 
o  were 
many 
irevent 
[i  other, 
!ut  into 
or  two 
These 
When 
sdiately 
,de  sur- 
be  of 


This  "  Snake  war  "  afforded  a])iindant  opportunity 
for  frontiersmen  to  learn  the  manly  art  of  killing 
Indians;  and  they  did  learn  it,  and  learned  it  well. 
Yolunteer  companies  were  enlisted  to  stand  bi'tween 
the  v.hite  settlers  and  the  Snake  Indians,  wliilc  the 
regular  army  was  withdrawn  to  assist  in  putting 
down  the  rebellion;  and  they  stood  there,  some  of 
them,  and  others  la^  there,  and  they  are  lying  there 
to  this  day. 

The  famous  Oregon  poet,  Joaquin  Miller,  earned 
his  spurs  as  a  war-man  out  on  the  plains  fighting 
Snake  Indians,  and  many  others  of  less  celebrity  did 
likewise.  But  the  handful  of  Snake  Indians  were 
harder  to  conquer  than  General  Lee  or  Stonewall 
Jackson.  General  Lee  touched  his  military  hat  with 
one  hand,  and  passed  over  his  sword  with  the  other 
to  General  Grant,  under  the  famous  apple-tree,  some 
months  before. 

E-he-gan,  AVe-ah-we-wa  and  0-che-o  had  pulled 
down  their  war-feathers  in  presence  of  General 
Crook.  "When  the  drums  of  the  Union  army  were 
beating  the  homeward  march.  General  Crook  was 
ordered  to  the  frontier  to  whip  the  Snakes.  Some  of 
the  regiments  of  the  regular  army  were  sent  out  to 
relieve  the  volunteers  who  garrisoned  the  military 
posts.  Many  a  brave  fellow  who  had  returned  from 
fighting  rebels  went  out  there  to  die  by  Snake  bul- 
lets, and  in  some  instances  to  be  scalped. 

They  found  a  different  enemy,  not  less  brave,  but 
more  wily  and  cunning,  who  were  careful  of  the  waste 
of  ammunition.  These  Snake  Indians  were  not  con- 
tent to  make  war  on  white  men,  but  continued  to 
invade  the  territory  of  other  Indians;  particularly  that 


212 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


«i'  111 


}<    Si 


of  Warm  Springs  Reservation,  and  occasionally  of  the 
Umatilla;  also,  to  capture  horses  and  prisoners. 

Among  the  exploits  in  this  line,  the  carrying 
off  a  little  girl,  daughter  of  a  chief  of  the  Warm 
Springs,  was  the  most  daring,  and  perhaps  tne  most 
disastrous,  in  its  results,  to  the  Srakes,  daring,  be- 
cause committed  in  bread  daylight,  and  inside  the 
lines  of  white  settlements. 

The  affair  created  great  excitement  when  it  was 
known  among  the  friends  of  the  child's  parents.  No 
people  are  more  intensely  affected  by  such  occur- 
rences than  Indians.  This  feeling  is  very  much  en- 
hanced by  the  knowledge  that  captives  are  often  sold 
as  slaves  into  other  tribes.  Hence  th^s  capture  was 
disastrous  to  the  Snake  Indians,  because  it  aroused 
the  fire  of  hate  among  the  "Warm  Springs,"  and 
sent  many  of  their  braves  to  the  warpu^h. 

Generr!  Cook  being  the  rigJit  man  in  the  right 
place,  ana  finding  that  his  regulars  could  not  suc- 
cessfully cope  with  the  Snakes,  called  for  volunteers 
from  Umatilla  and  Warm  Springs  Reservation.  A 
company  of  Cayuse  Indians,  under  the  leadership  of 
the  now  famous  Donald  McKay,  went  from  the  for- 
mer, and  another  company,  under  command  of  Dr. 
Wm.  C  McKay,  an  older  brother  of  Donald's,  from 
the  latter  agency.  I  know  nothing  of  the  theology 
of  Gen.  Cook,  whether  he  is  posted  about  the  war- 
policy  of  his  Satanic  Majesty,  but  he  struck  it  this 
tune,  —  "  fighting  the  devil  with  fire." 

These  Indians  "v/ere  Piilisted  with  the  understanding 
that  they  were  to  have,  as  compensation  for  their  ser- 
vices, the  booty  won  from  the  ''Snake  Indians;"  bat 
were  armed  and  rationed  by  thy  Government. 


WTGWAM  ANE  WARPATH. 


213 


n  it  was 
nts.    ^o 
;h   occur- 
much  611- 
often  sold 
pture  was 
it  aroused 
ings,"  and 


not  suc- 
volunteers 
vation.    A 
idership  of 
om  tlie  for- 
and  of  Dr. 
lald's,  from 
le  theology 
)ut  the  wor- 
uck  it  this 

derstanding 
or  their  ser- 
idians;"  Vat 
aent. 


The  father  of  the  captured  girl  promised  to  award 
the  brave  who  should  recapture  her,  with  her  hand; 
or,  in  other  words,  she  was  to  be  the  wife  of  the  man 
who  brought  her  in. 

In  those  days,  no  well-established  Indian  law  recog- 
nized the  necessity  for  a  marriage  ceremony,  neither 
prevented  a  brave  from  taking  as  many  wives  as  he 
was  able  to  buy,  or  otlierwise  obtain. 

Hence  this  captive  girl  became  a  prize  within  reach 
of  any  brave  who  went  on  the  warpath,  and  could 
succeed. 

This  tempting  bounty,  together  with  a  love  of 
plunder  and  the  thirst  for  revenge,  added  to  the  am- 
bition of  the  Indians  to  do  something  that  would 
entitle  them  to  the  recognition  of  their  manhood  by 
white  men,  made  recrniting  easy  to  accomplish,  and 
the  two  companies  were  quickly  made  up.  The  en- 
listed Indian  scouts,  when  supported  by  the  Govern- 
ment and  furnished  with  arms  and  ammunition, 
clothed  and  mounted,  were  just  the  thing  Crook  had 
been  wanting. 

The  Snakes  had  learned  that  soldiers  in  bhie  were 
poor  marksmen,  and  that  they  could  drive  them  by 
strategy.  But  as  one  of  the  chiefs  related  afterward, 
when  they  saw  blue  coats  slip  from  their  horses  and 
take  to  the  brush,  giving  back  shot  for  shot,  they  were 
astonished.  Then,  too,  the  scouts  under  the  McKays, 
Indians  themselves,  tracked  them  over  plain  and 
mountain,  until  they  were  forced  to  fortify,  and  they 
became  desperate. 

Meanwhile  this  wily  general,  divested  of  his  offi- 
cial toga,  was  out  with  his  Indian  scouts,  one  of  whom 
said  he  looked  like  "  a-cul-tus-til-le-cum "  (a  com- 


Ill 


U' 


214 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


mon  man) ,  but  he  "  mum-ook-sul-lux-ic-ta-hi-as-tyee- 
si-wash,"  ("  makes  war  like  a  big  Indian  chief.") 

General  Crook,  giving  his  Indian  scouts  permission 
to  take  scalps  and  prisoners,  under  savage  war  custom, 
very  soon  compelled  the  Snake  chiefs  to  sue  for  peace. 

This  result  was  ^^rought  about  by  the  "Warm 
Springs  "  and  "  Umatillas,"  under  the  leadership  of  the 
McKay  brothers,  who  advised  a  winter  campaign. 
General  Crook,  with  rare  good  sense,  availing  him- 
self of  their  wisdom  and  experience,  pursuing  the 
Snakes,  in  mid-winter,  over  the  high  sage  brush 
plains,  and  through  the  mountains. 

The  Snakes  were  under  the  leadership  of  three 
several  chiefs.  E-E-gan's  band,  infesting  the  frontier 
on  Burnt  and  Owyhee  rivers.  Eastern  Oregon,  num- 
bering never  more  than  three  hundred  warriors,  had 
been  reduced  to  less  than  two  hundred,  by  the  casual- 
ties of  war;  We-ah-we-wa's  band,  of  about  the  same 
number,  swinging  along  between  Burnt  river  and  the 
Canon  City  country. 

Against  these  Donald  McKay,  with  the  Umatilla 
Indian  scouts,  was  sent,  supported  by  a  company  of 
the  United  Stftes  cavalry. 

Donald  was  eminentlv  successful  in  his  scouting 
exjjedition,  in  recapturing  horses,  taking  scalps,  and, 
what  has  since  been  of  more  importance  to  him,  in 
also  retaking  the  captured  daughter  of  the  Warm 
Spring  chief. 

She  was  not  found  wiih  her  original  captors,  it  being 
a  common  practice  with  Indians,  and  especially  when 
at  war,  to  pass  captives  out  of  the  hands  of  the  orig- 
inal captors,  and,  whenever  practical,  in  exchange  for 
other  slaves. 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


215 


Those  who  may  meet  this  famous  scout,  Donald 
McKay,  and  his  pretty  little  Indian  wife,  Zu-let-ta 
(Bright  Eyes),  would  never  suspect  that  she  had 
served  three  years  as  a  slave  among  the  Snake  Indians, 
and  that  the  great  stalwart  fellow  was  her  deliverer ; 
yet  such  is  the  truth. 

The  third  division  of  the  Snake  tribe  was  under  the 
famous  chief  Pe-li-na,  whose  battle-grounds  and  war- 
paths were  cast  of  the  Cascade  mountains,  and  south 
of  the  Warm  Spring  Reservation. 

During   one   of  the  engagements  incident  to  this 
Snake  war,  he  was  killed  in  a  fight  with  Dr.  McKay'i 
Warm  Spring   scouts.     He  was  probably  the  most 
daring  and  successful  leader  the  Snake  Indians  have 
ever  had. 

On  his  death,  a  chief  named  O-che-o  assumed  com- 
mand, and  conducted  the  last  battle  fought  by  this 
band.  Harassed  and  driven  by  the  combined  power 
of  United  States  soldiers  and  their  Indian  allies,  they 
made  at  last  a  stand,  and  fought  bravely,  but  were 
overpowered,  and  finally  compelled  to  surrender. 

When  they  came  in  with  hands  dyed  with  the  blood 
of  innocent  victims,  and  offered  to  shake  hands  with 
General  Crook,  he  refused;  and  placing  his  own  be- 
hind him,  coolly  said,  "  When  you  prove  yourselves 
worthy  —  not  till  then." 

They  were  subjugated,  and  accepted  the  terms, 
"unconditional  surrender" — without  treaty  or  promise, 
except  that  of  protection  or  subsistence  on  the  jjart 
of  the  Government  and  an  acknowledgment  of  its 
authority,  and  the  promise  of  obedience  on  the  part  of 
the  Indians. 

At  Warm  Springs  Agency  an  Indian,  who  had  been 


|l!'i 


1 1  B 


216 


WIGWAM    AND  WARPATH. 


'ivith  Crook,  invited  me  to  visit  the  department  barn 
with  him. 

He  led  the  way,  climbing  up  gangways  and  ladders, 
until  we  reached  the  upper  garret.  He  pointed  to  a 
dark-looking  pile  in  one  corner  resembling  a  black 
bear-skin.  On  examination  I  found  they  were  scalps. 
The  SCO  at  remarked  that  he  did  not  know  how  many 
were  there  now,  because  white  men  carried  them  off, 
and  Capt.  Smith,  the  agent,  forbade  them  from  touch- 
ing them;  that  when  they  came  home  from  "Crook's 
war,"  at  the  great  scalp-dance  they  had  sixty-two. 
He  appeared  to  regret  that  the  men  who  had  cut  them 
off  the  hated  Snakes'  heads  could  not  be  permitted  to 
ornameni  their  shot-pouches  with  them.  I  selected 
one  or  two  as  reminders  of  the  handiwork  of  the 
scouts,  and  also  as  «necimens  of  the  long  black  hair 
of  the  Snake  Indians.  J  haven't  them  now.  For  a 
while  they  hung  in  my  office;  but  the  doors  were 
sometimes  left  unlocked,  and  they  were  missing. 
Pretty  sure,  they  are  now  playing  switch  for  a  couple 
of  handsome  ladies  residing,  —  well,  no  odds  where. 

If  my  reader  will  accompai.y  me  awhile  we  will 
visit  the  "Snake  country,"  and  see  it  for  ourselves. 
From  the  home  office  at  Salem,  Oregon,  our  route 
leads  us  down  the  beautiful  Willamette  valley,  n'a 
Portland;  thence  once  again  up  the  Columbia  by 
steamer  and  rail,  through  "the  Cascades,"  seeing  new 
beauties  each  time  in  things  we  had  not  noticed  on 
former  trips.  On  the  right  a  mountain  stream  leaps 
off  a  rock  six  hundred  feet,  and  turns  to  mist,  forming 
a  perpetual  cloud,  that  hides  its  main  course,  but  pours 
its  constant  rain  into  a  great  pool  below,  and,  over- 
flowing, leaps  again  two  hundred  feet,  and  lighting 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


217 


on  stony  bed,  made  deeper  and  softer  each  century, 
it  comes  out  to  a  smiling,  sparkling  silver  sheet  be- 
neath the  evergreen  forests,  and  joins  thp  river  in  its 
flow  to  the  briny  deep. 

On  the  left  we  see  Castle  Rock,  on  which  Jay  Cooke 
built  a  fine  air-castle  when  the  IS^orth  Pacific  Railroad 
was  built  upon  paper,  intending  to  match  the  ideal 
with  the  real  in  time,  to  sit  on  its  summit,  and,  from 
the  tower  of  his  mansion,  wave  his  welcome  to  the 
panting  iron  charger  on  his  arrival  from  Duluth,  en 
route  to  the  great  metropolis  of  the  northwest. 

Jay  Cooke  failed;  the  iron  courser  is  stabled  at 
Duluth;  the  metropolis  is  covered  with  heavy  forests, 
and  the  hum  of  busy  life  is  not  heard  very  much  at 
Puget  Sound,  and  Castle  Rock  stands  solitary  and 
alone  like  some  orphan  boy. 

So  it  will  stand,  for  its  mother  mountains  look  on  it 
with  contempt,  from  its  very  insignificance.  It  is  a 
pity  Cooke  can't  build  the  castle,  —  pity  for  this  lonely 
rock,  who  bathes  his  feet  in  the  boiling  waters  of  the 
river. 

"  Rooster  Rock  "  is  still  worse  off*,  for  he  is  sur- 
rounded by  water  too  deep  for  him  to  wade,  though 
he  may  keep  Lis  head  above  the  flood. 

Onward,  upward  we  go,  passing  old  rock  towers 
and  Indian  burial-grounds,  catching  a  glimpse  of 
Father  Hood,  who  seems  in  ill-humor  now,  and 
frowns,  with  dark  clouds  on  his  brow.  Maybe  he  is 
angry  with  Mother  Adams,  on  the  north,  who  smiles 
beneath  her  silvery  cap,  while  he  scolds  and  thun- 
ders. The  tables  may  yet  turn  with  these  mountain 
nionarclis,  and  Hood  may  laugh  while  Mother 
Adams  weeps.    We  will  keejj  an  eye  on  them  for  a 


Ill 


I'i  4 


J 


'1 


218 


AVIGWAM   AND   WAUPATII. 


few  days,  as  om*  joiu'ney  leads  us  toward  the  "  Snake 
country." 

"We  are  at  "  The  Dalles."  Our  commissary,  Dr.  W. 
C.  McKay  has  made  preparation  for  the  journey;  we 
are  no  longer  to  be  hurried  by  steam  so  fast  we  can- 
not have  the  full  benefit  of  the  scenes  we  pass. 

The  doctor  is  a  native  of  the  mountains,  and  boasts 
that  he  is  "no  emigrant  or  carpet-bagger  either;" — that 
his  father's  blood  was  mixed  with  Puritan  stock  from 
Boston,  and  his  mother  knew  how  to  lash  him  to  the 
l>aby  board  and  swing  him  to  her  back  with  strong 
cords,  while  she  promenaded  behind  her  husband,  or 
gathered  the  wild  huckleberries. 

He  is  now,  1874,  en  route  for  the  east  with  a  troupe 
of  Indians  from  Warm  Springs  and  the  Modoc  Lava 
Beds. 

Few  who  meet  him  will  suspect  he  is  the  one  of 
whom  I  write,  unless  I  describe  him  more  accurately. 
Educated  in  Wilbraham,  Mass.,  at  his  father's  expense, 
he  graduated  with  honor,  and  retm-ned  to  his  native 
land  a  strong,  well-built,  handsome  gentleman.  He 
married  a  woman  of  his  own  blood,  fully  his  equal  in 
culture. 

The  doctor  has  taken  part  in  nearly  all  the  important 
Indian  afiairs  of  Oregon  and  Washington  Territory 
for  a  quarter  of  a  century;  sometimes  as  interpreter 
or  secretary  for  treaty  councils,  and  sometimes  as 
United  Stntes  Resident  Physician,  and  again  as  leader 
of  friendly  Indians  against  hostile  ones.  Ilis  experi- 
ences have  more  the  character  of  romance  than  any 
man  in  the  northwest. 

He  meets  us  at  the  wharf  and  says,  "  Come,  you  are 
my.  guest,"  and  leads  the  way  to  the  high,  rocky 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


219 


bluffs  overlooking  the  city  of  "  The  Dalles."  Our 
entertamment  was  made  complete  through  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  lady-like,  dark-eyed  woman  who 
presided  at  a  table  whereon  we  found  an  elegant 
supper. 

We  light  our  pipes,  and  stroll  out  to  the  tents  of 
the  teamsters,  packers,  and  hands  who  are  to  accom- 
pany our  expedition.  An  Indian  boy  is  baking  bread 
by  a  camp-fire  with  frying-pans.  I^ear  by  the  door 
of  the  cooking-tent  we  see  our  kitchen,  —  a  chest  or 
box,  —  and  by  its  side  stands  a  fifty-pound  sack  of 
self-rising  flour,  with  the  end  open,  and,  resting  on 
the  flour,  a  lump  of  dough. 

Jimmy  Kane,  the  Indian  cook,  twists  off  a  chunk, 
and,  by  a  circling  motion  peculiar  to  himself,  and  one 
would  say  entirely  original,  he  soon  gives  it  the  shape 
of  a  thin,  unbaked  loaf.  See  the  fellow  measuring 
the  frying-pan  with  his  eyes,  first  scanning  the  loaf 
and  then  the  pan,  until,  in  his  judgment,  they  will  fit 
each  other  well;  then,  holding  tiie  limp  loaf  in  his 
left  hand,  with  the  other  he  slips  a  bacon  rind  over 
the  inside  of  *hG  pan,  to  prevent  tiic  dough  from 
sticking,  and  claps  the  latter  in;  and,  patting  it  down 
until  the  surface  is  smooth,  he  pulls  from  his  belt  a 
sheath-knife,  and  makes  crosses  in  the  cake  to  pre- 
vent blistei'ing.  ]N^ext,  the  frying-pan  goes  over  the 
fire  a  moment"  or  two  until  the  bottom  is  crusted. 
Meantime  the  cook  has  drawn  out  coals  or  embers, 
standing  the  pan  at  an  angle,  and  propping  it  in  posi- 
tion with  a  small  stick,  with  one  end  in  the  ground 
and  the  other  in  the  upper  end  of  the  i3an-haudle. 
Meanwhile  the  coffee-pot  is  boiling,  and  in  some  other 
frying-pan  the  meats  are  cooking.    But  see  that  mess 


m- 


m 


220 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


of  dough,  how  it  swells  and  puffs  up,  like  an  angry 
mule  making  ready  for  a  bucking  frolic.  Jimmy 
takes  the  pan  by  the  handle,  and,  with  a  peculiar 
motion,  sends  the  now  steaming  loaf  round  and  round 
the  pan;  then  jerking  a  straw  or  reed  from  the 
gi'ound,  thrusts  it  into  the  heart  of  the  loaf,  and, 
quickly  Avilhdrawing  it,  examines  the  heated  point. 
If  nt)  dough  is  there,  the  loaf  is  "  done,"  and  then 
Jimmy  throws  it  on  his  hand,  and  keeps  it  dancing 
until  he  lands  it  in  the  bread-sack,  which  is  stored 
away  among  bed-blankets  to  keep  it  hot;  while  he 
proceeds  to  put  another  lump  of  dough  through  the 
same  process.  Sometimes  the  first  loaf  may  be  stood 
on  end  before  the  fire  while  the  other  loaves  are 
taking  their  turn  in  the  pan. 

Perhaps  a  dozen  cakes  are  standing  like  plates  in  a 
country  woman's  cupboard,  all  on  edge,  while  we 
look  at  the  Indian  cook  setting  the  table  on  the 
ground.  Fii'st  spreading  down  a  saddle-blanket,  and 
then  a  table  of  thick  sail-cloth,  he  draws  the  kitchen 
near,  and  pitches  the  tin  plates  and  cups,  knives,  and 
spoons  ai'ound,  and,  placing  an  old  sack  in  the  centre, 
sets  thereon  the  frying-pan  full  of  hot  "  fryins."  But 
Jimmy  has  everything  on  the  table,  and  is  waiting 
for  the  boys  to  come. 

Listen,  and  you  will  hear  the  tramping  feet  of  our 
band  of  horses  and  mules  with  which  we  are  to  make 
our  journey.  They  come  galloping  into  camp,  sea- 
soning the  supper  with  dust. 

On  the  following  morning  we  are  on  the  road 
toward  the  summit  of  the  Blue  Mountain,  riding  ovei 
high,  rolling  prairiqs,  sometimes  crossing  deep,  dark 
canons,  and  out  again  on  the  open  plain.     On  ihe 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


221 


evening  of  the  second  day  we  pitched  our  camp  in 
Antelope  valley. 

While  Jimmy  is  preparing  supper,  a  man  ap- 
proaches om*  camp  from  the  open  plain.  He  carries 
on  his  shoulders  a  breech-loading  shot-gun,  and, 
hanging  by  his  side,  a  game-bag,  through  which  the 
furry  legs  of  Jack  rabbits  and  the  feathers  of  prairie 
chickens  may  be  seen;  and  also  in  his  left  hand  a 
string  of  mountain  trout.  The  man  declares  himself 
a  hunter  by  his  spoils ;  but  there  is  something  else 
that  causes  us  to  stare  at  him,  —  the  soft  felt  hat 
slouched  over  his  face,  flannel  blouse,  denim  over- 
alls stufied  into  the  top  of  his  boots,  a  small  pointer 
dog  that  keeps  close  to  his  heels,  altogether  presenting 
a  spectacle  not  common  in  appearance. 

As  he  comes  near  our  camp,  wr.  recognize,  in  the 
sunburnt  face  and  flaxen  hair,  a  man  whose  heroic 
deeds  have  placed  his  name  high  on  the  roll  of  honor 
as  a  chieftain.  This  plain-looking,  rough-clad,  sun- 
burnt hunter  is  George  Crook,  commander  of  the 
Department  of  the  Columbia. 

He  is  just  the  man  that  we  wished  to  meet  at  this 
time.  After  a  pleasant  chat  on  every-day  topics,  the 
general  threw  himself  down  on  a  pile  of  blankets,  and 
gave  us  his  opinion  of  the  Indian  question,  so  far  as 
concerned  those  we  were  going  to  meet.  His  expe- 
rience made  his  views  of  great  value,  and  we  fully 
realized  it  within  a  few  days. 

We  see,  coming  over  the  hill  from  Warm  Springs 
Agency,  a  small  cavalcade  of  Indians.  They  are  to 
be  of  our  party  for  the  Snake  expedition. 

Foremost  in  the  trail  rode  a  young  Indian,  who  had 
been  with  McKay's  scouts  under  Gen.  Crook.    The 


222 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


general  quietly  extended  his  hand  to  the  new-comer, 
in  token  of  recognition. 

This  man's  name  was  Tah-home  (burnt  rock). 
He  had  been  successful,  during  the  war,  in  capturing 
a  little  Snake  Indian  squaw  of  about  twelve  years  of 
age.  lie  had  subsequently  adopted  her  as  his  wife. 
Dr.  McKay  had  arranged  for  Tah-home  to  bring  his 
captive  wife  for  the  purpose  of  interpreter,  it  being 
presumed  that  she  would,  of  course,  be  able  to  talk 
in  her  native  tongue,  having  been  only  two  years  a 
captive. 

It  should  be  understood  that  nearly  every  tribe  has 
a  language  distinct  from  its  neighbors,  and  it  was 
feared  that  some  difficulty  would  arise  in  managing  a 
council  with  a  people  who  were  so  little  known  to 
other  tribes,  excejit  by  their  daring  acts  of  warfare; 
hence  this  arrangement  with  Tah-home  and  his  squaw 
Ka-ko-na  (lost  child) . 

It  required  some  strong  promises  to  reassure  Tah- 
home  of  the  safety  of  this  trip,  in  so  far  as  it  affected 
his  property  interest  in  the  squaw;  for  at  this  time  his 
thoughts  were  confined  to  this  view  of  the  case. 
"When  assured  that,  in  the  event  the  Snakes  should 
claim  his  wife,  and  succeed  in  persuading  her  to 
remain  with  them,  he  should  have  two  horses,  he  was 
satisfied  to  proceed. 

One  or  two  days  after  we  encamped  near  Canon 
City,  and,  in  pity  for  the  poorly  clad  squaw,  we  had 
her  dressed  in  a  full  suit  of  new  clothes.  From  that 
time  henceforth  Tah-home  seemed  to  be  very  much 
attached  to  his  wife.  "  Fine  feathers  make  fine  birds  " 
among  Indian  people  as  elsewhere. 

Pursuing  our  journey,  we  at  last  stand  on  the 


WIGWAM   XSD   WARPATH. 


223 


summit  of  the  Blue  Mountains,  one  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  south  of  "  The  Dalles."  Looking  north- 
ward, spread  out  before  us,  a  great  high  plain  appears 
in  full  view,  though  hundred  of  miles  away;  high 
mountains,  looking  in  the  distance  like  a  wooded 
fringe,  and  their  high  peaks,  like  taller  trees  that  had 
outgrown  their  neighbors,  were  clothed  in  snow, 
making  a  marked  contrast  with  their  shining  tops. 
To  the  south  an  elevated  plateau  of  open  country, 
bleak  and  dreary  in  its  aspect.  A  few  miles  on  we  find 
a  boiling  spring  of  clear  water,  and  near  it  a  cool  one. 
Passing  south  of  the  siunniit  about  fifty  miles,  we 
reach  "  Camp  Ilarney,"  a  three-company  military 
post  established  here  to  guard  the  Indians.  There 
was  a  tunc  when  it  was  necessary.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  again. 


CHAPTER    XY. 


THE  COUNCIL  WITH  THE   SNAKE  INDIANS  —  0-CHE-O. 


On  our  arrival  we  made  our  camp  one  mile  below 
the  post,  on  the  bank  of  a  small  stream.  No  In- 
dians were  visible  until  the  day  appointed  for  the 
council  we  had  ordered.  Messengers  had  been  sent 
out  to  the  several  Indian  camps,  notifying  them  of 
our  presence. 

They  came  at  the  appointed  time  in  full  force,  men, 
women,  and  children.  The  council  was  held  near  our 
camp,  in  a  large  army  hospital  tent.  The  Snakes 
were  represented  by  their  great  war  chiefs,  We-ah- 
we-we,  E-he-gan,  and  0-che-o. 

Before  opening  council,  and  while  arranging  the 
preliminaries,  we  announced  the  presence  of  Ka-ko- 
Ha,  —  the  captive  wife  of  Tah-home, — and  the 
purpose  for  which  she  had  been  brought  along. 

This  announcement  created  great  excitement  among 
the  Snake  Indians.  They  collected  around  the  tired 
little  squaw,  and  scanned  her  closely,  for  the  purpose 
of  identification.  She  w^as  frightened,  and  shrunk 
from  their  questions,  saying  to  Tah-home  that  she 
was  "No  Snake."  She  had  either  really  lost  her 
native  language,  or  was  afraid  to  acknowledge  that 
she  could  speak  it. 

Meanwhile,  through  the  kindness  of  Gen.  Crook, 
while  we  were  encamped  at  Antelope  valley,  sending 
for  Donald  McKay,  who  wasi  in  Government  employ, 


WIOWAM   AND   WAKPATII. 


225 


we  were  supplied  with  an  interpreter.  Donald  is  not 
only  a  scout,  but  he  is  a  linguist  ir.  Indian  tongues, — 
speaking  seven  of  them  fluently,  —  the  "Slioshono 
Snake,"  included.  Ka-ko-na,  satisfied  that  she  would 
not  be  forced  to  go  with  her  own  people,  listened  to 
the  Snake  talk;  suddenly,  as  though  waking  from  a 
dream,  she  began  talking  it  herself,  and  was  soon 
recognized  and  identified  as  a  sister  of  one  of 
"O-chc'O-s"  braves. 

Her  father  had  been  killed,  her  mother  had  died, 
and  her  relatives  all  gone,  save  this  one  brother. 
Stoical  as  they  appear  to  be,  there  is,  nevertheless, 
deep  feelings  of  human  affection  pervading  the  hearts 
of  these  people;  especially  for  brother  and  sister,  and 
even  to  cousins;  but,  strangely  enough,  they  carry 
their  ideas  of  practicabil'ty  beyond  common  humanity 
in  their  treatment  of  mothers,  by  casting  them  off 
as  worn-out  beasts  of  burden  when  too  old  for 
labor. 

This  is  even  worse  than  among  civilized  people, 
who  pray  for  the  death  of  mothers-in-law  and  step- 
mothers. 

The  fathers  are  treated  with  great  3:indness,  —  at 
least  when  they  are  possessed  of  worldly  goods,  and 
even  when  poor  they  are  exempt  from  labor,  —  are 
buried  with  the  honors  due  them,  and  iheir  graves 
held  sacred  as  long  as  the  graves  of  other  fathers 
generally. 

After  the  usual  preliminaries  of  smoking  the  peace- 
pipe,  both  parties  proffering  pipes,  and  after  drawing  a 
puff  or  two,  then  exchanging  passing  the  pipes  around 
the  circle,  until  all  had  proclaimed  friendly  intention  by 
smoking,  Col.  Otis,  commander  of 'the  District  of  the 


f  'i: 


226 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


Lakes,  present,  together  with  a  number  of  officers  from 
the  post, — we  opened  the  talk  by  saying,  substantially, 
that  wc  were  there;  to  represent  another  department  of 
the  Government;  that  we  knew  all  about  the  history 
of  the  past,  and  had  come  to  offer  them  a  home  on  a 
Kcservation,  and  to  provide  for  their  wants;  and  that 
we  were  prepared  to  assist  them  in  r  2moving  to  the 
new  homes  at  Yai-nax,  on  Klamath  Reservation. 

The  chiefs  were  suspicious  and  wary,  not  disposed 
to  talk,  but  were  good  listeners.  After  two  days, 
passed  in  "  making  heart,"  they  said  they  could  not 
giv^e  an  answer  without  "  Old  Win-ne-muc-ca,"  the 
head  chief  of  all  the  Shoshones,  Snakes. 

The  council  was  adjourned,  and  this  celebrated  old 
fraud  was  sent  for,  a  distance  of  one  hundred  miles. 

Meanwhile  we  waited  for  his  appearance,  sometimes 
visiting  the  Indi:in  camps  several  miles  away. 

On  one  occasion  I  went  on  horseback  and  alone 
with  We-ah-we-wa.  He  seemed  anxioiis  to  give  warn- 
ing to  his  people  of  our  coming,  and  sent  runners  ahead 
on  foot  for  that  purpose.  As  we  rode  away  from  our 
camp  I  had  some  misgivings,  when  I  remembered  that 
the  man  beside  mc  was  ,ne  of  the  most  bloodthirsty 
savages  that  had  ever  led  a  band  of  braves  to  a 
banquet  of  blood.  He  it  was  who  had  directed,  and 
assisted  too,  in  the  many  scenes  of  robbery  and  mur- 
der on  the  Caiion  City  road. 

He  was  more  thaii  oti  ordinary  man  in  mental 
power,  had  in  former  years,  while  a  captive,  lived  on 
Warm  Springs  Reservation,  had  learned  the  Chinook 
jargon,  and  could  speak  "  Boston  "  sufficiently  well  to 
make  himself  understood. 

After  leaving  our  camp,  and  while  en  route  to  his, 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


227 


rom 

ally, 

it  of 
itory 
on  a 
[that 
,o  the 

• 

posed 


ted  old 

illes. 

aetimes 

alone 

wavn- 

alicad 
rom  ovir 
•cd  that 
dthirsty 
Lves  to  a 
ited,  and 
,nd  mur- 

montal 
lived  on 
Chmoolv 
ly  well  to 

Ite  to  his, 


he  told  me  of  his  capture  years  before ;  of  his  confine- 
ment in  a  guard-house,  and  exhibited  the  scars  that 
had  been  made  bj  the  fetters  he  had  worn;  then  of 
his  escape  and  subsequent  adventures,  and  narrow 
escape  from  recapture  and  death. 

lie  did  not  appear  to  shrink  from  mention  of  his 
own  crimes  and  exploits,  but  sought  to  impress  me 
constantly  that  he  had  only  acted  in  defence  of  his 
ow  1  rights.  There  was  in  the  face  of  this  man  a  cun- 
ning, treacherous  look  that  was  anything  but  reassur- 
ing. 

On  crossing  a  littlo  stream  fringed  with  willows, 
we  came  suddenly  on  his  camp.  I^ot  a  hous'^,  tent, 
or  lodge  was  to  be  seen,  but  scattored  around  among 
the  sage  bushes  were  several  half-circular  wind- 
brakes,  made  of  sage-brush  and  willows.  The  \v  omen 
and  children  rnn  cut  at  our  approach.  The  chief 
called  them  buck.  They  came  shyly,  and  wiih  won- 
dering eyes  gazed  on  the  man  who  had  come  to  move 
them  to  a  new  home.  I  learned  from  him  that  the^j 
had  never  been  to  the  post,  and  that  few  white  men 
had  ever  called  on  him ;  hence  the  curiosity  they  had 
on  being  close  enough  to  see  how  a  white  man  looked. 
This  chief  was  the  owner  of  three  sleek,  fat,  healthy- 
looldng  wives;  they  lived  on  roots,  fish,  and  grass- 
hoppers. The  entire  outfit  for  house-keeping  wae 
carried  from  one  camping  place  to  another  on  the  backs 
of  the  squaws. 

They  were  dressed  in  lo^ig  loose  frocks,  made  of 
deer-skins,  trimmed  wiih  furs,  and,  woman-like,  em- 
bellished with  trinkets;  in  this  instance  of  pieces  of 
tin,  cut  by  them,  feathers  and  claws  of  wild  animals. 

The  sleeves  were  small,  and  in  the  seams  a  welt  of 


228 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


dressed  deer-skin,  two  inches  deep,  and  cut  into 
fringes  of  one-fourth  inch  wide.  They  made  their 
toilets  at  the  little  brook  beneath  the  willows.  These 
people  maintained  all  their  old  customs.  I  noticed  a 
woman's  work-basket,  differing  somewhat  from  that  of 
those  who  were  blessed  with  sewing-machines.  Their 
needles  were  pointed  bones,  resembling  an  awl,  and 
were  used  as  such. 

The  threads  were  made  of  sinews  of  animals,  cured 
and  prepared  for  the  purpose,  very  strong,  but  not  fine 
enough  for  fancy  work  on  silk  or  cambrics;  and  yet 
they  make  beautiful  moccasins  and  bead-work,  with- 
out othei  thread  or  needle. 

The  children  were  also  clad  in  deer-skin  clothes, 
as  w  ere  the  men ;  lie  latter  being  dressed  with  the 
hair  and  fur  retained.  All  these  people  of  whom  I 
write  are  copper-colored,  though  varying  in  shades 
about  as  much  as  white  people  do,  some  of  them  being 
much  darker  than  others ;  all  have  black  eyes,  and  long 
black  hair,  and  smooth  features,  except  high-cheek 
bones.  They  differ  in  stature;  those  near  the  sea- 
coast  being  smaller  than  those  of  the  high  lands ;  the 
latter  averaging  as  large  as  white  men.  The  women 
are  much  larger  than  white  women. 

Their  habits  are  simple,  and  their  morals  beyond 
question,  so  far  as  the  honor  of  their  women  is  con- 
cerned. I  learned  from  good  authority  that  the  Indian 
women  who  have  never  been  contaminated  by  asso- 
ciation with  low  white  men  are  chaste.  The  law 
penalty  of  these  people  for  violation  of  this  virtue  is 
death.  One  or  two  instances  of  the  enforcement  of 
this  rigid  rule  have  come  within  my  own  personal 
knowledge  on  reservations  in  Oi'egon. 


\'<i» 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


229 


Sixteen  days  after  the  opening  of  the  councils, 
Win-ne-muc-ca  arrived,  and  the  council  was  again 
opened.  The  great  chief  spoke  to  his  people  in  pri- 
vate, but  declined  to  make  a  speech  in  our  joint  coun- 
cils; the  others  speaking,  however,  for  the  people- 
0-che-o  accepted  our  offer  of  a  home,  on  the  con- 
dition that  we  should  return  the  captives  that  had 
been  taken  during  the  late  war.  This  promise  was 
made  on  our  part.  With  this  assurance,  he  and  his 
band  made  ready  for  removal.  The  others  did  not. 
We  used  all  our  argumentative  ability  to  obtain 
their  consent,  but  unsuccessfully.  They  came  to  the 
council  with  war-paint  on  their  bodies  and  arms  con- 
cealed under  deer-skin  robes.  Our  party  were  armed, 
and  all  were  on  the  keen  look-out  for  trouble. 
Toward  the  close  of  the  council-talks  the  medicine- 
man of  the  Snakes  drew  his  knife,  and,  dropping  his 
robe  from  his  shoulders,  displayed  what  we  well  under- 
stood to  be  war-painting  on  his  body  and  arms,  and, 
thrusting  his  knife  into  the  ground,  said,  "We  have 
made  up  our  minds  to  die  before  we  will  go  to  any 
place  away  from  our  country." 

This  action  and  speech  brought  all  parties  to  a 
standing  posture  very  quickly.  The  situation  was  a 
very  doubtful  one  for  a  few  moments.  The  proximity 
of  troops  prevented  a  fight.  Had  we  b:;en  a  few 
miles  from  assistance,  I  doubt  not  blood  would  have 
been  spilled. 

We-ah-we-wa  himself  would  have  consented  to  go 
to  a  Reservation,  but  the  medicine-man  was  not  willing. 
Their  chief  requested  that  his  reasons  for  not  comply- 
ing should  be  made  known  to  the  "big  chief"  at  Wash- 
ington, which  request  was  granted  and  complied  with. 


b  1 


230 


WIGWAM   AND   WABPATH. 


The  council  ended,  and  we  made  preparation  to 
remove  O-che-o's  band  to  Yai-nax,  Klamath  Reser- 
vation. 

Before  leaving  camp  we  had  demonstrated  the  su- 
periority of  our  doctor's  skill,  by  healing  a  sick  Indian 
against  the  will  of  the  Snake  medicine-man. 

The  Snakes  had  demanded  the  return  of  their  peo- 
ple who  had  been  captured  during  the  war.  This  we 
refused  unless  they  would  go  on  to  the  Reservation. 
These  two  circumstances  had  produced  bad  blood. 

Before  our  departure  a  Snake  woman,  the  wife  of  a 
half-breed,  gave  us  warning  that  an  attempt  would  be 
made  to  capture  our  party  while  on  the  way  to  Camp 
Warner.  I  made  requisition  for  an  escort  of  troops, 
which  was  honored,  and  we  took  up  the  line  of  march. 
We  passed  safely  through  this  wild,  unsettled  region, 
and,  on  arrival  at  Warner,  O-che-o  gathered  his 
people,  and,  without  escort,  we  continued  the  journey 
to  Yai-nax. 

We  enjoyed  the  rare  spectacle  of  seeing  the  medi- 
cine-man practise  on  a  patient  who  was  taken  sud- 
denly ill  and  supposed  to  be  poisoned.  The  treat- 
ment was  novel.  He  made  a  sage-brush  fire,  and 
waited  until  it  had  burned  down  to  embers.  Mean- 
while the  patient  was  divested  of  clothing.  The  as- 
sistants of  the  doctor  formed  in  a  circle  around  the 
fire,  and  four  men  were  selected  to  manage  the  vic- 
tim of  this  savage  practice.  The  prayers,  songs  and 
dances  commenced  simultaneously,  increasing  in  ear- 
nestness. The  patient  was  lying,  with  his  face  down- 
ward, on  a  blanket,  with  a  slight  covering  over  him. 
The  medicine-man  made  a  sign  of  readiness,  when 
the  sick  man  was  seized  by  the  four  Indians,  by  the 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


231 


hands  and  feet,  and,  amid  the  noise  of  prayers  and 
songs  and  dances,  he  was  drawn  forward  and  back- 
ward, face  down,  over  the  hot  cof.ls,  until  he  was 
burnt  the  length  of  his  body,  so  that  great  blisters 
were  raised  soon  after. 

This  man  did  not  wince  or  mutter  or  shrink  from 
the  fearful  ordeal.  His  faith  made  him  whole.  A 
day  or  two  after  he  was  apparently  well. 

Belonging  to  O-che-o's  band  was  one  named  "  Big 
Foot,"  who  would,  with  a  cane  four  feet  long,  capture 
sage-brush  hare,  incredible  as  it  may  seem,  when  the 
fleetness  of  these  animals  is  considered.  He  would 
actually  run  on  to  them  and  knock  them  down  with 
the  cane. 

Our  route  from  Warner  to  Yai-nax  led  us  over  a 
high,  dry  country,  with  occasional  groves  of  mountain 
mahogany,  or  spruce,  the  whole  great  plateau  being 
from  four  to  five  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  level. 
Small  lakes  lay  basking  in  summer's  sun  or  covered 
with  winter's  ice.  They  are  bountifully  supplied  with 
fish  of  the  trout  species. 

On  the  day  before  our  arrival  we  were  met  by  a 
delegation  of  Klamath  Indians,  who  came  out  to  meet 
and  give  us  welcome.  It  is  a  beautiful  custom  among 
Indians  to  send  in  runners  to  announce  the  approach 
of  visitors,  and  then  messengers  are  returned,  or  per- 
haps, as  in  this  instance,  the  chief  and  his  head  men 
go  in  person  to  meet  them. 

They  were  impatient  to  "look  into  the  eyes  and  sec 
the  tongue"  of  th""  new  superintendent.  Whether 
the  Indians  of  our  pi^*^"  bnd  telegraphed  our  coming, 
or  sent  runners  in  advance,  I  do  not  now  remember. 
The  great  Caucasian  race  justly  honors  the  names  of 


232 


WIGWAM  ^VND  WARPATH. 


Frankliriy  Morse,  and  Field.  These  people  of  whom 
T  write  had  been  using  fire  as  a  medium  of  communi- 
cation for  untold  generations.  Spiritualism  is  also 
common  among  them. 

"VVe  were  treated  with  some  exhibitions  of  this 
incomprehensible  phenomenon  while  on  this  journey. 
The  seance  was  not  conducted  with  the  aid  of  pine 
tables  or  the  laying  on  of  hands;  the  medium,  or 
clairvoyant,  working  himself  by  wild  motions  of  his 
arms  and  head  into  the  proper  condition.  He  an- 
nounced that  the  Klamaths  were  at  that  minute 
encamped  at  a  certain  place,  and  designated  the  day 
on  which  they  would  meet  us. 

Subsequent  investigation  established  the  correct- 
ness of  the  prophecy.  Whether  the  knowledge 
^V2«  obtained  through  fire-signals,  or  by  the  medium 
of  spirit  communication,  this  deponent  sayeth  not. 
There  is  a  general  understanding  among  them  as  to 
fire-signals,  even  when  ti'ey  have  no  knowledge  of 
each  other's  language. 

The  meeting  with  the  Klamaths  and  Snakes  was 
one  of  interest  to  all  parties,  from  the  fact  that  they 
had  been  enemies,  and  the  chiefs  had  not  met  in 
person  since  peace  was  restored.  Living  in  the 
country  intervening  was  a  small  tribe  of  Wal-pah- 
pas,  who  were  half  Snake  and  half  Klamath.  They 
were  mediators,  though  sometimes  fighting  on  alter- 
nate sidcs,-as  interest  or  affront  gave  occasion. 

The  Klamath  chief  and  his  people  had  made  camp, 
and  were  awaiting  our  arrival.  The  chief  first  ad- 
dressed me,  as  the  high  chief,  stating  that  he  had 
heard  of  me,  and  was  anxious  to  "  see  my  eyes  and 
heart,  and  welcome  me  to  Klamath."     I  replied  by 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


233 


saying,  "  I  have  brought  with  me  a  man  of  your  own 
color.  He  comes  to  live  on  Klamath."  Then,  ex- 
tending my  hand,  the  chief  of  the  Klamaths  advanced 
and  exchanged  greetings  with  me,  and  also  with 
0-che-o,  chief  of  the  Snakes,  This  man  I  consider 
a  remarkable  character.  Mild-mannered,  smooth- 
voiced,  unassuming,  unused  to  ceremonies  that  were 
not  savage,  he  exhibited  traits  of  character  worthy  of 
emulation  by  more  pretentious  people. 

In  this  informal  council  he  responded  to  Allen 
David,  the  Klamath  chief:  "  I  met  this  white  man. 
He  won  my  heart  with  strong  words.  I  came  with 
him.  I  once  thought  I  could  kill  all  the  white  men. 
I  have  lost  nearly  all  my  young  men  fighting.  I  am 
tired  of  blood.  I  want  to  die  in  peace.  I  have  given 
my  heart  all  away.  I  will  not  go  to  war.  I  am  poor. 
I  have  few  horses.  I  do  not  know  how  to  work.  I 
can  learn.  We  will  be  friends.  I  will  live  forever, 
where  this  new  chief  places  me.     I  am  done." 

After  these  greetings  and  the  supper  over,  we  gath- 
ered around  huge  fires  of  pine  and  spruce  logs,  and 
talked  in  a  friendly  manner.  Singular  spectacle,  away 
out  on  the  unsettled  plains  of  Eastern  Oregon,  to  see 
a  meeting  wherein  were  representatives  of  two  races 
and  seven  different  tribes,  speaking  as  many  different 
languages,  sitting  in  peace  and  harmony,  without  fear 
of  harm,  telling  stories,  some  of  which  were  trans- 
lated into  the  several  tongues. 

To  illustrate  how  these  talks  were  conducted:  a 
white  man  speaks  in  his  own  language,  a  Warm 
Spring  Indian  repeats  it  to  his  own  people,  who,  in 
turn,  tell  it  to  a  Klamath,  he  to  a  Modoc,  and  then 
it  goes   through    the  Wal-pah-pa's    mouth    to   the 


234 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


[  S:        If 


^^1 


:'  M     95 


iii-il! 


Snake's.  Often  three  or  four  sentences,  of  different 
sense,  are  being  translated  at  the  same  time.  Some 
wild  stories  are  told;  but  oftener  the  white  man  fur- 
nishes the  subject,  at  the  solicitation  of  some  red  men 
aslving  information. 

The  night  Avears  away,  the  fires  grow  dim,  and,  one 
by  one,  the  talkers  drop  out  of  the  circle,  and  retire 
to  sleep  unguarded.  The  morning  sun  finds  the  camp 
active,  and  preparation  being  made  for  moving  for- 
ward. The  horses  and  mules  are  driven  into  camp, 
about  as  motley  a  band  as  the  people  who  wei-e  squat- 
ting around  the  various  breakfast  tables  on  the  ground. 
The  scenes  of  such  a  ciunp  are  enlivening  indeed. 
Tents  falling,  lodges  taken  down,  horses  neighing  and 
losing  company,  all  bustle  and  confusion,  while  the 
teams  are  being  harnessed,  and  the  mules  and  Indian 
ponies  are  being  saddled  and  packed,  —  the  spectacle 
presented  is  an  exhilarating  one.  But  if  you  would 
enjoy  the  full  benefit  of  it,  take  a  position  on  the  side 
of  the  camp  from  which  we  take  our  departure,  and, 
while  you  rest  your  elbows  on  your  saddled  horse, 
take  items. 

See  the  anxiety  of  each  to  be  off  first,  and  hear  the 
driver  of  the  mule  teams  talking  in  an  undertone 
until  the  bells  on  the  leaders  strike  a  note  that  is  in 
tune  with  the  road,  and  then  each  mule  settles  to  the 
collar  and  the  wheels  move.  Anxious  squaws  are 
jabbering  to  their  horses,  children  and  dogs,  lazy  In- 
dian men  sitting  unconcerned,  astride  the  best  horses. 
Stand  still  a  little  longer,  and  see  the  last  man  run  to 
the  fire  for  a  coal  to  light  his  pipe,  and  then  away  to 
overtake  his  company. 

The  camp  is  now  deserted,  the  fires  are  burned  out, 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


235 


and  the  i)laces  where  tents  and  lodges  stood  look 
smooth,  and  where  the  weary  limbs  have  lain  the 
fresh  broken  trees  tell  who  were  there.  And  now 
om'  horse,  with  his  impatient  feet,  bids  a  hasty  "good- 
by"  to  a  spot  that  was  om*  home  for  a  night;  we 
leave  it  behind  us  to  be  seen  no  more. 

Our  charger,  now  more  impatient,  still  hurries  to 
join  the  departed  throng,  while  we  turn  up  our  coat- 
collar  to  keep  the  frost  from  our  ears.  Soon  we  come 
upon  the  lame  and  lazy,  and  perhaps  an  old  squaw, 
with  her  basket  of  household  treasures  that  has  been 
with  her  through  her  hard  life,  the  basket  suspended 
on  her  back  by  a  strap  around  her  forehead,  and  a 
stick  in  her  hand,  and  her  body  bent  forward.  She 
plods  along  until  the  sound  of  approaching  hoofs 
startle  her,  and  instinctively  she  looks  around  and 
stops  for  us  to  pass.  Poor,  miserable  old  link  of  Dar- 
win's mystic  chain,  we  pity  you;  for  you  are,  at  least, 
half  human,  and  your  sons,  with  no  filial  love  and  no 
shame,  are  on  prancing  horses  just  ahead  of  you, 
wearing  red  blankets  and  redder  paints,  with  feathers 
flying,  and  thoughtless  of  their  mother;  your  lot  is 
hard,  but  you  don't  know  it,  because  in  your  youth 
you  played  Indian  lady,  while  your  mother  wore  the 
shoes  of  servitude  that  you  are  noAV  wearing. 

As  we  ride  on,  passing  little  squads  of  old  people 
on  foot,  and  women  with  baby  baskets,  ponies  groan- 
ing under  two  or  three  great  lazy  boys,  teams  with 
jingling  bells,  we  find,  nearer  tho  front  of  the  train, 
the  lords  of  this  wild  kind  of  creation,  laughing  and 
sporting  as  they  ride,  apparently  unconscious  of  the 
fact  that  slavery  and  bondage  have  fettered  old  age, 
and  compelled  it  to  drag  weary  limbs  over  stony  roads. 


236 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


"We  arrive  at  Yai-nax,  the  future  home  of  a  war- 
chief,  who  has  cost  the  Government  much  of  blood 
and  treasure,  though  docile  now.  A  lone  hut  marks 
the  spot,  near  a  large  spring  that  runs  off  in  a  north- 
erly direction  to  Sprague's  river.  A  beautiful  valley 
spreads  out  for  miles,  covered  with  grass  and  wild 
flax;  snowy  mountains  lie  south,  west,  and  north, 
the  valley  ascending  the  mountain  east  so  gradually 
that  we  can  scarcely  see  where  the  one  ends  and  the 
other  begins.  The  cavalcade  halts  near  the  spring, 
and  soon  the  throng  becomes  busy  mating  prepara- 
tions for  the  night. 

The  next  morning's  sun  finds  a  busy  camp ;  every 
able-bodied  man  is  ordered  to  work;  trees  a  falling, 
axes  plying,  and  log  cabins  rise  in  rows,  and  the 
new  home  of  the  Snake  Indians  begins  to  appear  to 
the  eye  a  real,  tangible  thing. 

Six  days  pass,  and  the  smokes  from  thirteen 
Indian  houses  join  in  procession  and  move  off  east- 
ward, borne  by  the  breeze  that  sings  and  sighs,  or 
howls  in  anger  among  the  trees  around  Yai-nax. 
A  council  is  called,  and  O-che-o  speaks :  "  My  heart 
is  good.  I  will  stay  on  the  land  you  have  given  me. 
This  is  my  home.  "When  you  come  again  you  will 
find  O-che-o  here." 

Since  leaving  Camp  Harney  nothing  has  been  said 
until  this  evening  about  captives.  O-che-o  now 
raises  the  question  again.  We  meet  him  with  the 
assurance  that  all  the  captives  that  can  be  found  shall 
have  the  privilege  of  returning  to  their  people.  I 
was  not  altogether  prepared  for  the  scene  that  was 
opening.  O-che-o  remarked,  through  an  intei'- 
preter,  that  he  believed  me,  and  that  he  expected  that 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATU. 


237 


ill 


I  would  secure  the  return  to  him  of  his  captured  son, 
who  was  somcAvhere  in  the  north;  but,  to  make  his 
heart  easy  on  the  subject ,  he  would  try  me  with  a 
case  now  before  Ub ;  referring  to  Ka-ko-na. 

It  was  a  regular  bombshell.  We  were  on  the  eve 
of  departure.  Ka-ko-na  and  Tah-home  had  l^ccome 
very  strc^ngly  attached  to  each  other,  and  were  not 
willing  to  be  separated. 

O-che-o  had  assented  to  the  new  law  which  I  had 
introduced  forlDidding  the  sale  of  women ;  but  he  was 
nevertheless  anxious  to  detain  her,  unless  she  was 
paid  for.  This  last  feature  he  did  not  avow,  but  I 
well  knew  the  meaning  of  his  speech.  lie  insisted 
that  she  should  be  brought  before  the  council,  and 
in  the  presence  of  the  people  make  her  choice,  to  go 
or  stay.  Tah-home  was  almost  wild  with  fear  of 
losing  her,  and  reminded  me  of  my  promise  at  Ante- 
lope valley.  Ka-ko-na  was  consulted,  while  I  was 
endeavoring  to  evade  the  trying  scene.  I  was  satis- 
fied that  she  preferred  going' with  Tah-home;  but  I 
well  knew  the  mysterious  power  of  the  medicine- 
man, and  I  fearec  that,  if  she  was  brought  into  his 
presence,  she  would  be  so  much  under  the  power  of 
his  will,  through  her  own  superstitious  faith  in  him, 
that  she  would  not  have  the  courage  to  elect  to  go 
with  Tah-home. 

O-che-o  was  informed  that  she  preferred  to  go  with 
her  husband.  "  All  right ;  but  let  her  come  here  to 
say  so  before  all  the  people,"  insisted  O-che-o.  I 
clearly  saw  that  any  further  attempt  at  evasion  would 
impair  his  confidence  in  my  integrity. 

This  episode  was  of  that  kind  which  enlists  the 
sympathies   of  all   classes  of  men.      Tah-home  had 


i'l 


238 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


^1 


i!   !>■  'I  ; 


won  the  good  will  of  our  entire  party,  during  the  trip 
from  Antelope  Valley,  ])y  his  unceasing  industry  as  a 
herdei'  and  cami)-helper. 

Ka-ko-na  had  also  improved  much  in  her  manners, 
and  had  learned  the  art  of  laundress  to  some  extent. 
No  unseemly  act  had  she  committed  to  forfeit  the 
respect  due  her  as  a  woman ;  consequently  now,  when 
the  two  had  become  so  thoroughly  infatuated  with 
each  other  that  it  was  noticeable  to  even  casual  ob- 
servers, a  general  feeling  of  pity  and  regret  at  the 
untoward  circumstances  was  manifest  throughout  the 
camp. 

The  teamsters  and  other  employes  were  willing  to 
make  up  a  purse  to  buy  her  of  her  people,  —  in  fact, 
the  project  was  put  on  foot  to  do  so.  I  confess  I  was 
not  insensible  to  the  common  feeling  of  regret,  mixed 
with  the  fear  for  the  result. 

When  the  trying  moment  could  no  longer  be  de- 
layed, Ka-ko-na  and  her  master  lover  were  brought 
into  the  circle.  The  moon  was  shining  brightly,  and, 
added  to  this,  the  light  of  the  council  fire  made  up  a 
picture  of  romantic  interest.  Speeches  were  made  on 
the  occasion  worthy  of  the  subject. 

An  appeal  was  made  to  O-che-o's  better  nature,  in 
behalf  of  the  anxious  pair.  He  is  really  a  noble  fel- 
low, and,  to  his  credit  be  it  told,  a  kind-hearted  man, 
though  untrained  in  civil  ways. 

He  acknowledged  that  it  was  wrong  to  separate 
those  who  loved  each  other,  but  said  "  he  must  look 
in  Ka-ko-na's  eyes  while  she  made  her  choice."  He 
was  not  willing  that  Tah-home  should  even  stand 
beside  her  while  the  matter  was  under  discussion. 

The  latter  asked  the  privilege  of  speaking,  which, 


WIOWAM    AND  WARPATH. 


239 


boing  granted,  he  poured  out  a  speech  that  I  little 
♦bought  him  capable  of  making.  It  was  replete  with 
the  wild  poetry  of  love,  very  impassioned,  and  I'lill  of 
pathos.  Finally,  Ka-ko-na  was  ordered  to  make  a 
choice,  —  to  go  with  Tah-home,  or  stay  with  her  people. 

The  Snake  medicine-man  took  a  position  in  front 
of  her,  and,  fixing  his  eyes  on  hers,  stood  gazing  in 
her  face.  The  whole  council  circle  was  stilled.  A 
suspense  that  was  very  intense  pervaded  evei'y  mind. 
Silence  reigned;  every  eye  was  watching  the  mo^'c- 
mcnt  of  the  woman's  lips.  The  power  of  the  medi- 
cine-man was  more  than  she  could  stand,  even  when 
love  for  Tah-home  was  pleading. 

She  answered,  "  /  s/ay,"  and  burst  into  tears.  Tah- 
home  turned  as  white  as  an  Indian  could.  The  white 
men  present  felt  a  cold  chill  fall  on  them.  Ka-ko-na 
and  Tah-home  returned  to  their  tent,  she  weeping 
bitterly.  The  council  was  broken  up,  and  the  excited 
camp  was  again  quiet,  save  the  sobbing  of  the  heart- 
broken Ka-ko-na. 

An  hour  or  two  before  daybreak,  I  was  awakened 
by  Tah-home,  who,  in  a  low  whisper,  made  an  enter- 
prising proposition,  which  was  no  less  than  to  elope 
with  his  wife.  I  dare  not  assent,  though  strongly 
tempted  to  do  so.  When  I  refused,  he  then  wished 
me  to  prevent  pursuit.  .This  I  could  not  do.  The 
poor  fellow  returned  to  his  tent,  and  the  sobbing 
changed  to  paroxysms  of  despair. 

Our  next  point  of  destination  being  Klamath  Agen- 
cy, we  had  despatched  part  of  our  teams  the  evening 
previous.  On  one  of  these  wagons  Ka-ko-na's  goods 
had  been  placed  by  her  friends,  with  the  intention,  no 
doubt,  of  making  an  excuse  for  her  to  follow.    When 


!l| 


wn 


9\0 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


r  ,' 


<  m 


I  -■  F  ! 


the  morning  came  for  our  departnie,  0-che-o  was 
invited  to  accompany  om*  party  to  the  agency,  and 
repay  the  visit  of  he  Iviamaths.  The  fact  that  Ka- 
ko-na's  clothing  had  preceded  her  in  wagons  was 
urged  as  a  reason  why  she  should  go  also. 

O-che-o  consented.  We  placed  the  camp  in  charge 
of  a  trustworthy  white  man,  and  turned  from  this  new 
settlement  with  feelings  of  pride,  and  with  a  prayer 
and  hope  for  its  success.  Whether  O-che-o  and  his 
people  shall  ever  reach  manhood's  estate  depends 
entirely  on  the  policy  of  the  Government,  and  the 
men  who  are  selected  to  educate  them  in  the  rudi- 
mentary principles  of  civilization. 

Two  years  afterward  I  again  visited  the  settlement. 
I  found  Och-c-o  there,  contented.  He  was  glad  to 
see  me,  and  repeated  iiis  declaration  that  he  would 
"  Go  no  more  on  the  warpath."  I  found  twenty- 
eight  log  houses,  with  chimneys,  doors,  and  windows, 
occupied  l^y  the  Snake  Indians;  also,  comfo.  vble 
buildings  for  Government  employes,  and  a  farm  of 
three  hi. died  acres  of  land,  under  a  substantial  fen;e, 
together  with  corr  Is  and  barns. 

This  country  is  about  forty-four  hundred  ^eet  in 
altitude,  and,  consequently,  the  seasons  are  short. 
When  not  cut  down  by  frost,  wheat  and  barley  yield 
abundantly,  unless,  indeed,  another  enemy  should  in- 
tei'feve,  —  tho  cricket.  They  are  about  one  and  one- 
half  inches  long,  a  bright  black  colcr,  very  destruc- 
tive, marching  in  grand  armies,  eating  the  vegetation 
netu'ly  clean  r.s  they  go.  These  crickets  made  their 
appearance  in  the  neighborhood  of  li  ai-nax,  and 
threatened  destruction  to  the  crops.  The  commissary 
in    charge  consulted  O-che-o-and  Choe-tort.     They 


X 


lii't' 


WIGWAi.   AND   WARPATH. 


241 


ordered  tneir  people  to  prepare  for  the  war  on  this 
coming  army.  Circular  bowl-shaped  basins,  six  feet 
in  diameter,  were  made  in  the  ground,  and  paved  with 
cobble-stones;  large  piles  of  dry  wood,  brusli  and 
grass  were  collected  near  the  pits.  All  the  available 
forces  Avere  armed  with  baskets,  sacks,  and  other  im- 
plements, and  ordered  on  to  the  attack.  The  forces 
wer(3  put  in  position,  and  the  alarm  sounded,  and  this 
strange  battle  began.  Let  us  stand  by  one  of  the 
basins,  or  pits,  and  witness  the  arrival  of  the  victors, 
who  come  laden  with  the  wounded  and  maimed  ene- 
mies. Those  in  charge  of  the  slaughter-pens,  or 
basins,  throw  in  wood,  dry  grass  and  sage  brush,  and 
\/hen  burnt  down,  tlie  ashes  are  swept  out  with  long 
willow  brooms;  then  a  fire  is  built  around  the  upper 
rim  of  the  basin,  and  ;is  each  captor  comes  with  her 
load  of  thousands,  they  are  thrown  into  the  basin  on 
the  heated  rocks.  The  children,  especially  the  girls, 
are  stationed  around  the  circle  to  drive  back  the  more 
enterpi'jsing  crickets  that  succeed  in  hopping  over,  or 
through  the  liery  ring  surrounding  this  slaughter-pen. 
Think,  for  a  moment,  of  the  helpless,  writhing  mass 
of  animated  nature  in  a  hot  furnace,  —  a  great  black 
heap  of  insects  being  stirred  up  with  poles  until  they 
are  roasted,  while  their  inhuman  torture'rs  are  appar- 
ently unconscious  of  the  fact  that  these  crickets  are 
complete  organisms,  each  with  a  separate  existence, 
struggling  for  life. 

I  dout  know  that  it  was  any  more  inhuman  than  a 
"  Yankee  clam-bake,"'  where  brave  men  and  fair  wo- 
men murder  thousands  of  animated  bivalves  without 
I  thought  of  inflicting  pain.  The  Indians  had  the 
at  vantage  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  for  the  crickets 


wiowajVi  and  wakpath. 


were  their  enemies.  When  the  halie  is  over  they 
shovel  them  into  home-made  sacks,  and  then,  sewing 
them  u[),  put  them  to  press. 

An  Indian  cricket-press  does  not  work  by  steam, 
with  huge  screws.  Fiat  rocks  are  placed  on  the 
ground,  and  the  sack  full  of  cooked  crickets  is  placed 
thereon,  and  then  another  rock  is  laid  on  the  sack; 
finally  stones,  logs,  and  other  weighty  things  are 
placed  upon  the  pile,  until  the  work  is  complete. 
Meanwhile,  look  away  doAvn  the  sloping  plane  and  see 
the  line  of  battle,  with  sprightly  young  squaws  on  the 
outside,  deployed  as  skirmishers.  See  how  they  run, 
and  laugh,  and  shout,  imtil  the  enemy  is  turned,  and 
then  the  victory  is  followed  up,  each  anxious  to 
secure  trophies  of  the  battle.  This  is  one  kind  of  war 
where  the  women  wield  implements  of  destruction 
quite  as  well  as  their  masters. 

The  battle  has  been  fought  and  won,  and  the 
intruders  routed  and  driven  into  the  rapid  current  of 
Spraguo's  river.  The  people  rest  from  the  siege  con- 
tented, for  the  growing  crop  —  carrots,  and  turnips  — 
has  been  saved.  This  is  not  the  only  cause  of  gratu- 
lation,  for  now  comes  the  best  part  of  the  war.  The 
luscious  cakes  of  roasted  crickets  are  taken  from  the 
rude  presses,  and  the  brave  warriors  of  this  strange 
battle  celebrate  the  victory  with  a  feast  of  fresh 
crickets,  and  a  grand  dance,  where  sparkling  eyes 
and  nodding  feathers,  and  jingling  bells  keep  time  to 
Indian  drums. 

Fastidious  reader,  have  yon  ever  been  to  a  clam- 
bake, and  seen  the  gay  dancers  celebrate  the  funeral 
of  a  few  thousand  sightless  bivalves?  —  things  that 
God  had  placed  in  harden  3d  coffins  and  buried  on 


AVIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


243 


the  shore,  while  godlike  man  and  woman  brought 
them  to  a  short-lived  resmTection. 

AVcll,  then,  you  understand  how  little  human  sym- 
pathy goes  out  for  helpless  things,  and  how  much  of 
thoughtless  joy  is  experienced  in  this  civilized  kind 
of  feasting.  The  Indian  has  the  advantage,  for  his 
roasted  crickets  are  sweet  and  nutritious.  I  speak 
li'om  "  the  card,"  as  a  Yankee  would  say. 

O-che-o  and  Choc-toot  are  safe  from  want.  The 
compressed  cakes  are  "  cached"  away  for  winter  use; 
that  is  to  say,  they  are  buried  in  a  jug-shaped  cellar, 
dug  on  some  dry  knoll,  and  taken  out  as  necessity 
may  require.  The  cakes  when  taken  from  the  bag 
—  as  Yankee  people  would  say,  for  they  call  every- 
thing a  bag  that  western  people  call  a  sack  —  pre- 
sent the  appearance  of  a  caddy  of  foreign  dates  or 
domestic  plums  when  dried  and  put  in  shape  for  mer- 
chandise. 

Since  my  visit  to  Yai-nax,  at  the  time  of  locating 
O-che-o  and  his  people,  others  have  been  added  to 
the  station.  Old  Chief  Sehonchin,  the  legitimate  leader 
of  the  now  notorious  tribe  of  Modocs,  has  taken  up  his 
residence  at  Yai-nax. 

At  the  time  of  planting  this  Indian  settlement,  it 
was  not  known  that  any  adverse  claim  could  be  set 
up  to  this  portion  of  Klamath  Reservation;  since 
then,  hovrever,  a  military  road  company  has  laid  claim 
to  alternate  sections  of  land,  granted  them  by  an  act 
of  the  Oregon  Legislature,  by  virtue  of  congressional 
legislation,  giving  lands  to  certain  States  to  assist  in 
making  "  internal  improvements." 

The  Government  has  been  apprised  of  the  state  of 
affairs,  and  may  take  action  to  meet  the  emergency. 


•   i| 


2U 


WIGWAM  AND   AVARPATH. 


There  is,  however,  an  embryo  Indian  war  in  this 
chiini,  unless  judiciously  managed. 

In  the  treaty  of  1864  this  land  was  set  apart  as  a 
home  for  the  Klamath  Indians,  and  such  other  tribes 
as  might  be,  from  time  to  time,  located  thereon  by 
order  of  the  United  States.  Subsequently  the  grant 
in  aid  of  internal  improvements  was  made.  Suppose 
the  Government  concedes  the  right  to  the  road  company 
to  sell  and  dispose  of  these  lands,  to  which  the  Gov- 
ernment has  never  had  a  title,  and  the  purchaser  takes 
possession;  thus  occupying  alternate  sections  of  the 
country  belon.^mg  to  these  Indian  tribes,  and  giving 
them  nothing  in  compensation.  The  result  might  be 
another  cry  of  extermination,  and  another  expensive 
spasmodic  effort  to  annihilate  a  tribe  who,  in  despera- 
tion, light  for  their  rights. 

The  land  never  did  belong  to  the  United  States; 
else  why  treat  with  its  owners  for  it?  If  the  road 
company  are  entitled  to  lands  for  constructing  a  mil- 
itary road  through  this  Indian  Reservation,  give  them 
other  lands  in  lieu  thereof,  or  make  the  compensation 
to  the  Indians  equivalent  to  the  sacrifices  they  may 
make ;  otherwise  more  blood  will  be  shed. 

Their  nationality  and  manhood  were  recognized  in 
making  the  treaty  by  which  this  tract  of  country  was 
reserved  from  sale  to  the  United  States.  Let  it  be 
recognized  still;  treat  them  with  justice,  and  war  and 
its  bloody  attendants  will  be  avoided. 


CHAPTEE    XVI. 


OVFll  THE  FALLS  — FIRST  ELECTION. 


T/iONG  up  our  narrative,  let  us  resume  o  ir  jour- 
ney to  Klamath  Agency,  accompanied  by  O-chc-o 
and  a  few  of  his  head  men;  Tali-home  and  Ka- 
ko-na  taking  charge  of  the  loose  stock,  and  riding, 
for  once  in  their  lives,  a  la  white  people,  side  by  side. 
This  was  a  sad  day  to  them;  they  were,  human-like, 
more  ardently  in  love  than  ever,  as  the  hour  for 
departure  approached. 

The  route  from  Yai-nax  to  Klamath  Agency  fol- 
lows down  the  valley  of  Sprague's  river  for  twenty 
milc^^  over  rich  prairies  skirted  with  timber.  To  the 
eye  it  is  a  paradise,  walled  in  on  the  north  and  south 
by  ranges  of  mountains  five  miles  apart,  traversed  by 
a  stream  of  clear  water,  and  covered  with  bunch- 
grass  and  wild  flax.  It  is  the  natural  pasture  land 
of  elk,  who  run  in  bands  of  fifty  to  one  hundred  over 
its  beautiful  plains.  Leaving  the  river,  the  road 
crosses  a  range  of  low  hills   passing  down  to  Wil- 


liamson's river,  —  a 


connectmg 


link    between    the 


"  Great  Klamath  Marsh  "  and  "  Big  Klamath  Lake." 
At  the  crossing  it  is  one  hundred  yards  wide;  the 
ford  being  on  the  crown  of  a  rocky  ledge  of  twenty 
feet  in  width,  over  which  the  water  thirty  inches' 
dei)th  runs  very  swittly,  and  falls  off  about  two  feet 
into  deeper  water  below.  The  Indians  cross  on  Iheir 
ponies  v/ithout  fear;  but  Avhite  men  with  trembling 


1* 


246 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


limbs,  with  an  Indian  on  each  side.  We  made  the 
trip  with  a  silent  prayer  to  Heaven  lor  safety  as  we 
went  through.  !N^ot  so,  however,  with  tlie  diiver  of 
one  of  our  six-mule  teams.  The  wagon  was  partly 
loaded  with  infantry  soldiers,  who  were  returning  to 
Fort  Klamath  from  some  duty,  and  had  been  granted 
the  privilege  of  riding.  The  driver,  when  about 
midway,  became  dizzy,  and  for  the  moment  panic- 
stricken  and  wild;  drew  the  leaders'  line  so  strongly 
that,  mule-like,  they  jumped  off  into  the  boiling  Hood 
below.  The  soldiers  leaped  from  the  wagon  before  it 
crossed  the  precipice. 

Soon  the  six  mules  and  the  driver  were  struggling 
in  thirty  or  forty  feet  depth  of  water.  The  wagon 
rolled  over  and  over  down  the  water-covered,  rocky 
slope,  finally  resting  on  the  bottom.  The  driver  aud 
five  mules  were  saved  by  the  heroism  of  a  quiet  little 
fellow  named  Zip  Williams.  lie  had  driven  his  team 
tlu'ough,  and  wfis  out  of  danger.  Seeing  the  other 
going  over  the  fiills,  he  quitted  his  own,  and  throwing 
off  his  boots,  drawing  his  knife  and  clasping  it  between 
his  teeth,  he  rushed  among  the  struggling  mass  of 
floundering  mules,  and  succeeded  in  cutting  the  har- 
ness, thereby  liberating  five  of  the  animals.  The 
remaining  one,  attached  to  the  wagon  tongue,  being 
tall,  would  touch  the  bottom  with  his  hind  foot  occa- 
sionally, and,  with  his  head  and  front  feet  out  of  water 
a  portion  of  the  time,  would  plea''  earnestly  for  suc- 
cor; but  his  struggles  were  so  furious  that  even  the 
heroic  Zip  could  not  extricate  him.  Those  present 
witnessed  with  ivgret  this  brave  old  mule  sink 
beneath  the  flood.  The  Avagon  and  ])art  of  the  har- 
ness were  recovered,  and  also  the  "big- wheel  mule;" 


WIGWAM   AND  WAUPATH. 


247 


but  the  latter  "was  not  of  much  account,"  as  Zip 
expressed  it,  "  except  to  make  a  big  Indian  feast,"  to 
which  purpose  he  was  appUcd. 

From  WiUiamson  river  our  route  hiy  through  a 
heavy  forest.  The  agency  is  situated  on  the  east 
side  of  a  small  river  which  rises  at  the  foot  of  a  long 
ridge  extending  west  to  the  Cascade  Mountains. 
This  stream  runs  several  thousand  inches  of  water, 
and  would  afford  immense  power.  The  buildings 
were  made  of  logs,  and  are  arranged  in  a  row,  one 
hundred  feet  apart,  resembling  one  side  of  a  street. 
The  long  row  of  twenty  whitewashed  houses  fronting 
east  was  a  welcome  sight  for  those  of  our  party  who 
had  for  three  months  been  almost  entirely  out  of 
society,  and,  in  fact,  away  from  civilization. 

Klamath  Agency  is  new,  it  having  been  established 
in  18(35;  the  Indians  who  occupy  it  numbering, 
in  18G9  (the  time  of  my  first  official  visitation), 
fourteen  hundred.  They  are  "  Klamaths,"  Modocs," 
"Yahooshin,"  "Snakes,"  "  Wal-pah-pas,"  and  "Sho- 
shone Snakes  "  The  Klamaths  number  seven  hundred. 
They  were  the  original  owners  of  the  coimtry;  have 
never  been  engaged  in  wars  against  the  white  race. 

They  are  a  brave,  enterprising,  and  ambitious  peo- 
ple. In  former  times  they  were  often  in  the  war- 
path against  other  Tiidiim  tribes;  and  among  their 
ancient  enemies  are  ilioae  who  now  occupy  the  country 
in  coinmon  with  them. 

The  i)ractic(;  of  calling  the  Indians  together  for  a 
"  big  Inlli  "  on  occasions  of  the  visits  of  officials  was 
also  observed  in  this  instance. 

This  agency  has  been  under  the  management  of 
Tandsay  Api)legate,  of  Oregon,  —  a  man  who  was 


248 


WIGWAM   AND   WAItPATn. 


f  ;•:  » 


;,  '4 


i      11 


«i,i'i 


well  qualified  by  nature,  and  a  long  residence  on  the 
frontier, for  the  office. 

He  had  taken  charge  of  them  when  they  were  only 
savages;  and,  during  the  short  time  he  was  in  power, 
he,  with  the  assistance  of  his  subordinates,  had  ad- 
vanced them  gi'eatly  in  civilization.  Under  his  tuition 
they  had  abandoned  the  old  hereditary  chieftainships, 
and  had  elected  new  chiefs  by  popular  vote. 

They  were  slow  to  yield  to  the  new  plan;  but  when 
the  election  was  ordered,  they  entered  into  the  con- 
test with  eai'nestness  and  enthusiasm. 

The  manner  of  voting  did  not  admit  of  ballot-box 
stufling,  —  no  mistake  could  occur,  —  but  so  natural 
is  it  to  cheat  and  corrupt  the  great  franchise,  that 
even  those  wild  Indians  made  clumsy  imitation  of 
white  deixiagognes. 

There  were  two  candidates  for  the  office  of  head 
chief,  —  each  anxious  for  election,  as  in  fact  candi- 
dates always  are,  no  matter  of  what  race.  They 
made  promises,  —  the  common  stock  in  trade  every- 
where with  people  hunting  office,  —  of  favors  and 
patronage,  and  even  homjht  votes. 

Tiiis,  the  first  election  on  this  Reservation,  was  one 
of  great  excitement.  There  was  wire-working  and 
intriguing  to  the  last  minute.  When  the  respective 
candidates  walked  out  and  called  for  votes,  each 
one's  supporters  forming  in  line  headed  by  the  candi- 
date, the  result  was  soon  declared,  and  Bos-co-pa 
was  the  lucky  man. 

Agent  Applegate  named  him  "  David  Allen ; "  but, 
Indian  like,  they  transposed  the  names  and  called  him 
"  Allen  David,"  —  by  which  name  he  is  laiown  and 
has  become,  to  some  extent,  identified  with  the  recent 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


249 


Modoc  war.  lie  is  a  man  of  commanding  apjiearance, 
being  over  six  feet  in  height,  large,  well-developed 
head,  naturally  sensible,  and,  withal,  highly  gifted  as 
an  orator  and  diplomat. 

He  had  met  our  i)arty  as  we  came  in  with  O-che-o's 
band  of  "  Sho.shone  Snakes,"  and,  on  our  arrival  at 
Yai-nax,  had  come  on  home  in  advance  to  prepare  his 
people  lor  the  big  council  talk.  He  called  them  to- 
gether the  day  after  our  arrival. 

The  weather  was  cold,  —  the  ground  covered  with 
a  few  inches  of  snow.  Allen  David's  peojile  began 
to  assemble.  Look  from  the  oiHce  Avindow  on  the 
scene:  here  they  come,  of  all  ages  less  than  a  cen- 
tury; some  very  old  ones,  lashed  on  their  horses  to 
prevent  them  falling  off;  others  who  were  blind,  and 
one  or  two  that  had  not  enjoyed  even  the  music  of 
the  thunder-storm  for  years;  others,  again,  whose 
teeth  were  worn  off  smooth  with  the  gums.  Not  one 
of  the  motley  crowd  was  hald;  indeed,  I  ne/cr  saw  an 
Indian  who  was.  They  came  in  little  gangs  and 
squads,  or  families,  bringing  with  them  camp  equi- 
pages. 

As  each  party  arrived  they  pitched  their  camps. 
In  the  course  of  the  day  several  hundred  had  come 
to  see  the  "  New  tyee."  Some  were  so  impatient 
thc}'^  (lid  not  wait  to  arrange  camp,  but  hurried  to  pay 
honors  to  their  new  chief.  They  bi'ought  not  only 
the  old,  the  young,  their  horses  and  dogs,  but  also 
their  troubles  of  all  kinds,  —  old  feuds  to  be  raked 
up,  quarrels  to  be  reopened,  and  many  questions  that 
had  arisen  from  time  to  time,  and  had  been  diposed 
of  by  the  agent,  whose  verdict  they  hoped  might  be 
reversed. 


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250 


WIGWAM    AND    WAHPATII. 


The  camp  at  nightfall  suggested  memories  of  Meth- 
odist camp  meetings  in  the  West. 

Here  and  there  wci'e  little  tents  or  lodges,  and  in 
front  of  some  of  them,  and  in  the  centre  of  others, 
fires  were  built,  and  round  them,  sitting  and  standing, 
long-haired,  dusky  forms,  and,  in  a  few  instances,  the 
children  lashed  to  boards  or  baskets. 

I  have  selected  this  agency  and  these  people  to 
quote  and  write  from,  with  the  intention  of  mention- 
ing, more  in  detail,  the  characteristics  of  the  real 
Indian,  in  preference  to  any  other  in  Oregon,  for  the 
reason  that  minutes  and  rei)orts  in  my  possession,  of 
the  councils,  are  more  complete;  also,  because  the 
people  themselves  i)rcsent  all  the  traits  peculiar  to 
their  race.  To  insure  the  comfort  of  the  people  large 
pine  logs  were  hauled  up  with  ox-teams,  with  which 
to  build  fires,  the  main  one  being  one  hundred  feet  in 
length,  and  several  logs  high,  and  when  ablaze,  lighted 
up  the  surrounding  woods,  producing  a  grand  night- 
scene,  with  the  swarthy  liices  on  each  side  changing 
at  the  command  of  the  smoke  and  flames. 

My  reader  may  not  see  the  picture  because  of  my 
poverty  of  language  to  describe  it.  Suffice  it  to  say, 
that  these  people  were  there  to  see  and  hear  for  them- 
selves. Men,  women  and  children  came  prepared  to 
"  stay  and  see  it  out,"  as  frontier  peojjle  say. 

While  preparations  for  the  council  wei-e  being 
made,  a  portion  of  the  department  teams,  which  we 
had  used  on  the  Snake  expedition,  was  despatched  for 
Warm  Springs  Reservation. 

A  high  dividing  ridge  of  the  Blue  Mountains  sej)- 
arates  the  waters  of  the  Klamath  basin  from  Des 
Chutes  and  Warm  Si3ring  country. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


251 


''   '!j 


The  snows  full  early  on  this  ridge,  and  sometimes 
to  great  depth ;  hence  it  was  necessary  that  the  teams 
slioLild  leave  without  delay,  otherwise  they  might  get 
into  a  snow  blockade,  and  be  lost. 

Tall-home  was  ordered  to  accompany  the  train  as  a 
guide.  lie  remonstrated,  because  he  had  about  made 
up  his  mind  to  remain  and  join  O-che-o's  band  sooner 
than  be  separated  from  Ka-ko-na. 

I  knew  if  he  remained  it  would  be  to  his  disadv^an- 
tage,  and  probable  ruin;  and  for  that  reason  refused 
him  his  request,  after  fairly  explaining  the  reasons 
there  lor. 

He  acknowledged  the  validity  of  my  arguments, 
and  with  a  quick,  quiet  motion  withdrew.  I  caught 
his  eye,  and  read  plainly  what  was  in  his  mind.  lie 
had  determined  to  take  Ka-ko-na  with  him  at  every 
hazard. 

Half  suppressing  my  own  convictions  of  right  in 
the  pre.nise  ,  I  shut  my  eyes  to  what  was  passing;  in 
fact,  I  half  relented  in  my  determination  to  enforce  the 
new  law  in  regard  to  buying  women.  I  felt  that  the 
trial  was  a  little  too  severe  on  all  "the  Indian  parties 
to  this  transaction. 

The  evening  before  the  departure,  in  company  with 
Capt.  Knapp  (the  agent),  I  called  at  Tah-home's 
tent,  and  found  Ka-ko-na  still  weeping.  Tah-home 
was  downcast  and  sober-faced,  and  renewed  his  peti- 
tion for  the  privilege  of  remaining.  I  confess  that  I 
was  tempted  to  sus])end  the  new  law,  but  steadied 
myself  with  the  beli.  f  that  some  way,  somehow,  Tah- 
home  would  succeed  wiihout  my  aid,  and  without  the 
retraction  of  the  la^s%  tl.ough  I  could  not  see  just 
how.     I  was  "borrowmg  trouble,"  for,  as  I  subse- 


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252 


WIGWAM   AND  WAEPATH. 


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quently  learned,  the  arrangement  for  Tah-home  to  get 
away  with  his  wife  had  ah'eady  been  made  through 
the  intervention  of  a  "  mutual  friend,"  and  at  the  time 
I  visited  his  camp,  Tah-home  and  Ka-ko-na  were 
playing  a  part,  —  throwing  dust  in  my  eyes. 

This  mutual  friend  had  satisfied  0-che-o  by  giving 
him  one  of  Tah-home's  horses,  his  rifle,  .  nd  a  pair  of 
blankets,  all  of  which  had  been  sent  off  to  O-che-o's 
camp. 

The  snow  began  falling  before  morning,  and  in  the 
meantime  Tah-home  and  Ka-ko-na  silently  left  camp 
for  Warm  Springs.  On  the  following  morning,  when 
the  teams  were  drawn  up  to  start,  I  missed  Tah-home 
and  Ka-ko-na.  Of  course  I  needed  no  one  to  tell  me 
that  at  that  moment  they  were  miles  away,  towards 
the  summit  of  the  mountain. 

Having,  at  that  t.me,  no  assurance  that  O-che-o 
had  been  "  seen,"  I  hastened  to  iiis  lodge.  I  found 
him  sleeping,  or  pretending  to  sleep.  On  being 
aroused  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  inquired  the  cause 
of  my  early  visit.  I  think  that  no  lookei'-on  would 
have  detected,  in  his  looks  or  manner,  anything  but 
surprise  and  indignation,  when  the  escape  of  Tah- 
home  and  his  wife  was  made  known  to  him.  Keproach 
was  in  his  eyes  and  his  actions  while  he  dressed  liim- 
self.     I  was  alarmed  lest  they  should  be  pursued. 

A  "  mutual  friend "  is,  sometimes,  a  handy  thing 
in  life;  in  this  instance  the  "mutual,"  seeing  that  I 
was  in  the  dark,  and  liable  to  make  some  rash  prom- 
ises, touched  me  on  the  arm,  and  called  me  away.  I 
followed  him.  O-che-o  did  not  follow  me.  If  my 
memory  is  correct,  the  matter  was  not  again  referred 
to  by  either  of  usj  but  there  was  considerable  sly 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


253 


laughing  all  over  the  camp,  at  the  way  in  which  the 
"  tyee  "  (myself)  had  been  outwitted  by  Indians. 

"  Such  is  life."  AVe  are  living  a  lie  when  we  seem 
most  honest,  and  justify  ourselves  with  the  assurance 
that  "  of  two  evils  choose  the  least,"  will  whitewash 
us  over  to  all  other  eyes.  To  the  present  writing, 
conscience  has  not  kept  my  eyes  open  when  I  wished 
to  sleep,  because  I  shut  them  on  Tah-home  and 
0-che-o's  trick. 

The  grand  council  was  opened  by  Allen  David,  the 
chief,  saying,  "Hear  me,  all  my  people  —  open  your 
ears  and  listen  to  all  the  words  that  are  spoken  —  I 
have  been  to  the  head  of  Sprague's  river,  to  meet  the 
new  tyce  —  I  have  looked  into  his  eyes  —  I  have  seen 
his  tongue  —  he  talks  straight.  His  heart  is  strong 
—  he  is  a  brave  man  —  he  will  say  strong  words.  His 
ears  are  large  —  he  hears  everything.  He  does  not 
get  tired.  He  does  not  come  drunk  with  whiskey. 
What  you  have  heard  about  him  shaking  hands  with 
every  one  is  true.  His  eye  is  good  —  he  does  not  miss 
anything  —  he  saw  my  heart.  He  washed  my  heart 
with  a  strong  law  —  he  brought  some  new  laws  that 
are  like  a  strong  soap.  "VV^atch  close  and  do  not  miss 
his  words  —  they  are  strong.  We  will  steal  his 
heart." 

The  subjoined  report  to  my  superior  in  office  was 
made  on  my  return  to  Salem,  and  since  it  is  an  official 
communication,  written  years  ago,  it  may  be  worthy 
of  a  place  in  this  connection ;  supplementing  which  I 
propose  to  write  more  in  detail  matters  concerning 
this  visit  and  the  series  of  meetings  referred  to.  I 
make  this  statement  here,  because  I  do  not  wish  the 
readers  to  be  confused  by  the  mixing  of  dates,  since 


i 


254 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


to  finish  this  report  in  full  without  explanation  would 
exclude  incidents  that  are  of  interest  in  a  book,  though 
not  justifiable  in  official  reports. 


Office  SurERiNTENDENT  Indian  Affaibs, 
Salem,  Oregon,  Jan.  20tli,  1S70. 

Sir:  —  After  the  completion  of  the  Snake  expedi- 
tion and  previous  to  starting  on  the  Modoc  trip, 
I  held  a  series  of  meetings  and  talks  with  the  Kla- 
maths. 

I  understand,  and  have  so  represented  on  every 
occasion,  that  President  Grant  meant  what  he  said  in 
his  inaugural  address:  that  his  jDolicy  in  regard  to 
Indians  would  be  to  prepare  them  by  civilization  for 
citizenship.  Acting  from  this  principle,  so  perfectly 
in  accordance  with  my  own  judgment,  I  stepped  out 
of  the  track  of  my  predecessors,  and  said  to  them  that 
my  first  business  is  to  settle  the  financial  affairs  of  the 
agency;  then,  to  issue  such  goods  as  I  had  provided; 
and  then  to  deliver  a  message  from  Mr.  Parker  to  you; 
that  I  am  ready  to  hear  any  and  all  complaints;  settle 
any  and  all  difficulties;  decide  any  and  all  vexed 
questions;  to  tell  you  about  the  white  people's  laws, 
customs,  habits,  religion,  etc.,  etc. ;  in  a  word,  I  pro- 
pose to  remove  the  barrier  that  a  condition  has  held 
between  the  different  stations  in  life.  Civilization  may 
be  yours  —  manhood  —  the  American  standard  of 
worth.  The  course  is  clear  and  open  to  you  Indian 
people  —  for  the  whole  family  of  man. 

I  had  never  stood,  until  now,  before  a  people  just 
emerging  from  the  chrysalis  of  savage  life,  strug- 
gling earnestly  and  man  Jly  to  leave  behind  them 
the  traditions  and  customs  of  an  ancestry  known  only 


WIGWAM   AND  AVARPATH. 


255 


to  mankind  by  the  liistory  of  bloody  acts  and  deeds 
of  savage  heroism. 

I  would  that  I  could  portray  these  scenes :  these  dark- 
eyed  men  with  long  hair,  women  nat  Tally  good-look- 
ing, but  so  sadly  debauched  that  virtue  makes  no  pre- 
tensions among  them;  children  of  every  shade^  —  all 
gathered  around  a  huge  lire  of  pine  logs,  in  a  forest 
of  tall  trees,  in  mid-winter,  with  the  little  camp  ^  es 
here  and  there ;  and  notwithstanding  the  ground  was 
covered  with  snow  and  thermometer  sometimes  below 
zero,  these  people  would  sit,  or  stand,  for  hours,  with 
eyes,  ears,  and  hearts  all  open  to  hear;  catcljing  with 
great  eagerness  the  story  of  my  superior  in  office,  to 
whom  I  made  all  my  reports  and  from  whom  I  received 
instructions,  who,  by  his  own  energy,  had  elevated 
himself  to  a  level  with  the  great  men  of  the  age ;  and 
that  he,  Parker,  was  of  their  own  raceP 

The  Klamath  chief,  Allen  David,  arose  to  reply 
amid  surroundings  characteristic  of  Indian  life,  —  a 
perfect  solemn  silence  broken  only  by  his  voice. 

I  then  heard  the  notes  of  natural  oratory,  coming 
in  wild,  but  well-mc  isured  words,  and  recognized  for 
the  first  time  fully  that  nature  does  sometimes  pro- 
duce noble  men  wilhout  the  line  of  civilized  life.  I 
send  you  a  verbatim  report  of  his  speech  as  taken  by 
Dr.  McKay;  because  I  understand  we  are  all  trying 
to  solve  the  problem  of  civilization  for  Indians.  / 
am  noty  myself,  lomjer  sceptical  oxv  that  subject;  but 
I  know  that  a  large  proportion  of  our  public  men 
are ;  and  you  would  not  wonder,  either,  could  you 
visit  some  reservations  and  see  for  yourself  the  inside 
workings  of  moral  law. 

But  I  assert  that  the  Indians  are  not  to  blame; 


256 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


let  censure  fall  where  it  belongs;  viz.,  on  the  men 
who  are  entrusted  with  the  care  and  responsibility  of 
leading  and  protecting  these  people,  yet  wink  at  and 
tolerate,  in  subordinates,  the  most  demoralizing  hab- 
its, and  may  be,  in  some  cases,  participants  themselves. 
I  do  not  speak  of  this  agency  in  particular. 

Said  Allen  David,  —  "  I  see  you.  All  my  people 
see  you.  —  I  saw  you  at  Sprague  river.  —  I  watched 
your  mouth.  —  I  have  seen  but  one  tongue.  —  I  have 
looked  into  your  eyes. — I  have  seen  your  heart. — You 
have  given  me  another  heart. — All  my  people  will 
have  white  hearts.  — When  I  was  a  little  boy  I  lived 
here.  —  1 1  ave  always  lived  here.  —  A  long  time  ago  a 
white  man  told  me  I  could  be  like  him.  I  said  my 
skin  is  red,  it  cannot  change;  it  must  be  my  heart, 
my  brain,  that  is  to  be  like  a  white  man.  —  You  think 
we  are  low  people.  —  May  be  we  are  in  your  eyes.  — 
"Who  made  us  so?  —  We  do  not  know  much;  we  can 
learn. — Some  of  the  officers  at  the  fort  (referring  to 
Fort  Klamath,  six  miles  from  the  agency)  have  been 
good  men —  some  of  them  have  been  bad  men. —  Do 
you  think  a  good  white  man  will  take  an  Indian  wife? 
—  A  white  man  that  will  take  an  Indian  wife  is  worse 
blood  than  Indian.  —  These  things  make  our  hearts 

sad.  —  We  want  you  to  stop  it Your  ears 

are  large.  —  Your  heart  is  large.  —  You  see  us.  — 
Do  not  let  your  heart  get  sick. 

"  Take  a  white  man  into  the  woods,  away  from  a 
store;  set  him  down,  with  nothing  in  his  hands,  in 
the  woods,  and  without  a  store  to  get  tools  from ;  and 
what  could  he  do? 

"  When  you  lay  down  before  us  the  axes,  the  saws, 
the  iron  we'  jes  and  mauls  you  have  promised  us,  and 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


251 


we  do  not  take  them  up,  then  you  can  s.ay  we  ai*e 
*  eul-tus '  —  lazy  people.  —  You  say  your  chief  is  like 
me  —  that  he  is  an  Indian  —  I  am  glad.  What  can  I 
say  that  is  woi-th  writing  down?  —  Mr.  Parker  does  not 
know  mc. — When  you  do  all  Mr.  Huntington  promised 
in  the  treaty,  1804:,  we  can  go  to  work  like  white  men. — 
Our  hearts  are  tired  waiting  for  the  saw-mill.  —  When 
it  is  built,  then  we  can  have  houses  like  white  men. — 
We  want  the  flour-mill;  then  we  will  not  live  on  fish 
and  roots.  We  will  help  to  make  the  mills.  —  We 
made  the  fences  on  the  big  farms.  —  We  did  not  get 
tired  .... 

"Give  us  strong  law;  we  will  do  what  your  law  says. 
We  want  strong  law  —  we  want  to  be  like  white  men. 
You  say  that  Mr.  Parker  does  not  want  bad  men 
among  our  people.  —  Is  B.  a  good  man?  —  he  took 
Frank's  wife  —  is  that  good?    We  do  not  want  such 

men.     Is a  good  man?  —  he  took  Celia  from 

her  husband  —  is  that  right? — Applegate  gave  us 
good  laws  —  he  is  a  good  man.  —  Applegate  told  us 

not  to  gamble.    Capt. won  thirty-seven  horses 

from  us.  He  says  there  is  no  law  about  gambli^^g.  — 
Applegate  said  there  was.  —  Which  is  right?  "  .  .  .  . 

Mr.  Meacham  said,  "  You  need  not  be  afraid  to  talk 
—  Keep  nothing  back.  Your  people  are  under  a  cloud. 
I  see  by  their  eyes  that  their  hearts  are  sick;  they 
look  sorrowful.  Open  your  hearts  and  I  will  hear 
you;  tell  me  all,  that  I  may  know  what  to  do  to 
make  them  glad." 

Allen  David  said,  "  I  will  keep  nothing  back.  —  I 
have  eyes  —  I  can  see  that  white  men  have  white 
hands.  —  Some  white  men  take  our  women — they  have 
children  —  they  are  not  Indian  —  they  are  not  white 


I 


'  il 


258 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


— they  are  shame  children.  —  Some  white  men  take  care 
of  their  children.  —  It  makes  my  heart  sick.  —  T  do  not 
want  these  tb'::gs.  —  Indian  is  an  Indian  —  we  do  not 
want  any  more  shame  children.  A  white  man  that 
would  take  an  Indian  squaw  is  no  better  than  we  are. 

"  Our  woaicn  go  to  the  fort —  they  make  us  feel  sick 
—  they  get  goods  —  sometimes  greenbacks.  —  We  do 
not  want  them  to  go  there  —  we  want  the  store  here 
at  the  agency;  then  our  women  will  not  go  to 
the  fort  ....  Last  Sunday  some  soldiers  Avent  to 
Pompey's  —  they  talked  bad  to  the  women.  —  We 
do  not  want  soldiers  among  our  women.  —  Can  you 
stop  this?  Our  women  make  us  ashamed. — We  may 
have  done  wrong  —  give  us  strong  law."  .... 

Joe  Hood  (Indian),  at  a  talk  seven  days  after, 
said:    "Meacham  came  here.     Parker  told   him  to 

It  is  a  'new  soap;' 


come. 


He  brought  a  strong  law. 


it  washed  my  heart  all  clean  but  a  little  place  about 
as  big  as  my  thumb-nail.  Caroline's  (his  wife)  heart 
may  not  all  be  white  yet.  If  it  was,  my  own  would 
be  white  like  snow.  Parker's  law  has  made  us  just 
like  we  were  nev/  married.  I  told  these  Indians  that 
the  law  is  like  strong  soap;  it  makes  all  clean.  I  do 
not  want  but  one  wife  any  more."     .     .     . 

Allen  David  said :  "  You  say  we  are  looking  into  a 
camp-fire;  that  we  can  find  moonlight.  You  say 
there  is  a  road  that  goes  toward  sunrise.  Show  me 
that  stone  road.  I  am  now  on  the  stone  road. 
I  will  follow  you  to  the  top  of  the  mountain.  You 
tell  me  come  on.  I  can  see  you  now.  My  feet  are 
on  the  road.  I  will  not  leave  it.  I  tell  my  people 
follow  me,  and  I  will  stay  in  the  stone  road."     .     .     . 

I  have  given  you  a  few  extracts,  that  you  may 
judge  from  their  own  mouths  whether    they  can 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


259 


become  civilized.  If  Lindsay  Applegate,  and  his 
eons,  J.  D.  and  Oliver,  could  take  wild  savage  In- 
dians, and,  against  so  much  opposition,  in  the  short 
space  of  four  years  bring  them  to  this  state,  I  know 
they  can  be  civilized.  If  good  men  arc  appointed  to 
lead  and  teach  them,  —  not  hooks  alone,  but  civiliza- 
tion, with  all  that  civilization  means,  —  men  whose 
hearts  are  in  the  work,  and  who  realize  that,  as 
soon  as  duties  devolve  on  them,  great  responsi- 
bility attaches;  men  who  have  courage  to  stand 
squarely  between  these  people  and  the  villains  that 
hang  around  reservations  from  the  lowest  motives 
imaginable;  men  paid  fair  salaries  for  doing  duty; 
that  will  not  civilize  the  people  by  " mixing  blood;" 
married  men  of  character  who  will  practise  what 
they  preach,  and  who  can  live  without  smuggling 
whiskey  on  to  the  Reservation;  ten  years  from  to- 
day may  find  this  superintendency  self-supporting, 
and  offering  to  the  world  seven  thousand  citizens. 

I  am  conscious  that  this  is  strong  talk,  but  it  m 
surely  true.  I  have  not  overdrawn  this  side  of  the 
case;  nor  will  I  attempt  to  show  what  7ias  been  donCy 
or  will  be  done,  with  superintendents,  agents,  and 
employes  in  charge  placed  there  as  a  reward  for 
political  service. 

The  past  tells  the  story  too  plainly  to  be  misappre- 
hended. "While  I  am  responsible  for  the  advance- 
ment of  these  people,  I  beg  to  state  my  views  and 
make  known  the  result  of  observation  and  experi- 
ence. As  a  subordinate  officer  of  the  Government,  I 
expect  to  have  my  official  acts  scrutinized  closely. 
I  respectfully  ask  that  I  may  be  furnished  the  funds 
to  keep  faith  with  a  people  so  little  understood, — 
people  so  much  like  children  that  when  they  are 


t60 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


i 


proiiiiscd  a  saw-mill  they  go  to  work  cutting  logs, 
only  to  see  them  decayed  before  the  mill  is  begun, 
but  with  logic  enough  to  say,  "  When  you  have  got 
ufl  the  things  you  promised,  then  you  may  blame  us 
if  we  don't  do  right." 

I  have  now  no  longer  any  doubts  about  President 
Grant's  "  Quaker  Policy,"  if  it  is  applied  to  Indians 
once  subjugated.  These  people  have  mind,  soul, 
heart,  affection,  passion,  and  impulses,  and  great 
ambition  to  become  like  white  men.  There  are  more 
or  less  men  in  each  reservation  who  are  already 
superior  to  many  of  the  white  men  around  them. 
At  Klamath  they  are  now  working  under  civil  law  of 
trial  by  jury,  —  with  judge,  sheriflf,  civil  marriage, 
divorce;  in  fact,  are  fast  assuming  the  habili- 
ments of  citizenship. 

I  spent  seven  da^  ,  alking,  and  listening,  and 
making  laws,  marrying  and  divorcing,  naming  babies, 
settling  difficulties,  etc.,  and  finally  started,  accom- 
panied on  my  journey  by  a  large  delegation  of  Kla- 
maths,  who  insisted  that  I  should  come  again  and 
remain  longer,  and  make  laws,  and  that  I  would 
build  the  mills,  and  tell  them  more  about  our  religion ; 
all  of  which  I  promised,  if  possible;  but  realizing 
fully  and  feeling  deeply  how  much  depended  on  the 
man  who  is  in  immediate  charge  of  these  poor,  strug- 
gling people. 

I  am,  very  respectfully, 

Your  obt.  servt., 

A.  B.  MEACHAM, 

Supt.  Indian  Affairs, 

Hon.  E.  S.  Parker,  Commisaiotur, 
Wasuinoton,  D.  C. 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


261 


In  Allen  David's  speech,  he  refers  to  the  "  Fort," 
meaning  Tort  Klamath,  six  miles  distant  from  the 
agency.  It  was  established  for  the  protection  of  the 
settler^  on  the  Klamath  frontier.  Two  and  some- 
times three  companies  have  been  stationed  at  this  fort 
for  several  years. 

The  remarks  of  this  chief  need  no  comment;  they 
tell  the  tale.  If  confirmation  was  wanting  of  the 
crimes  intimated  in  his  speech,  a  visit  to  Klamath 
Indian  Agency,  and  even  a  casual  glance  at  the 
diflferent  complexions  of  the  young  and  rising  genera- 
tion, would  proclaim  the  correctness  of  Allen  David's 
charges. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

KLAMATH  COURT  —  ELOPEMENT  EXTRAORDTNARY. 

The  Reservation  furnishes  abundance  of  real 
romance,  mixed  with  tragedy,  sufficient  to  make  up 
a  volume.  The  Indians  tell,  and  white  men  confirm, 
the  story  of  an  officer  of  the  fort,  who  loved  an 
Indian's  wife,  and  how  he  sought  to  win  her  from 
home  by  presents;  and,  failing  in  this,  came  with 
armed  soldiers,  and,  with  threats  of  death  to  the  hus- 
band, compelled  him  to  give  her  up.  This  officer 
took  this  woman  to  the  fort,  dressed  her  in  styles 
common  among  white  women,  and  refused  to  return  her 
to  her  husband.  When  the  officer  was  "ordered 
away "  to  some  other  duty  the  squaw  went  home, 
bearing  in  her  arms  an  infant  not  more  than  half 
Indian.  Her  husband  refused  to  receive  her.  She 
was  turned  away  from  his  l")dge,  and  became  a 
vagabond  of  the  worst  class.  Fortunately  for  father, 
mother,  and  infant,  too,  the  latter  died  a  few  months 
thereafter. 

Another  young  officer  of  the  United  States  army, 
who  was  stationed  at  Fort  Klamath,  was  a  party  to 
an  elopement  in  high  life,  —  as  all  life  is  high  at  an 
altitude  of  forty-five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea  level; 
the  other  party  being  the  wife  of  a  haiidsome  young 
Indian  living  on  Klamath  Reservation.  However, 
they  had  but  a  few  miles  to  travel,  in  order  to  reach 


WIGWAM    AND    WARPATH. 


2(>3 


a"  Chicaffo^^  for  divorces.   All  people  without luw  arc 
a  law  unto  themselves. 

The  Indian  husband  appealed  for  redress,  but 
found  no  one  to  listen  to  his  appeals.  His  wife  re- 
turned to  him  when  the  regiment  to  whieh  the 
ofDcer  belonged  was  ordered  away,  bringing  with 
her  many  fine  clothes;  her  feet  clad  in  good  Amer- 
ican gaiters,  and  with  an  aimful  of  childhood, 
in  which  the  Indian  husband  claimed  no  interest. 
The  mother  was  turned  away  from  what  was  once  a 
happy  home ;  and  to-day,  with  her  little  girl,  wanders 
from  lodge  to  lodge,  seeking  shelter  where  she  may. 
This  woman  was  really  good-looking,  and  had  proved 
herself  an  apt  scholar  in  learning  the  civilized  arts  of 
house-keeping  and  dress-making;  she  also  learned 
something  of  our  language,  in  which  she  tells  the 
story  of  her  own  shame  and  the  fatherhood  of  her 
child. 

I  am  giving  these  statements  as  made  to  me  by 
white  men,  who  are  responsible,  and  will  answer, 
when  called  upon,  for  their  authenticity.  In  respect  to 
the  families  of  these  United  States  officers,  not  through 
fear  of  the  men  themselves,  I  withhold  their  names. 
In  this  connection  I  remember  a  conversation  with 
a  sub-chief  of  the  Klamaths,  who  could  speak 
"  Boston  "  quite  well.  His  name  was  "  Bio."  He  said, 
"  Meacham,  I  talk  to  you.  S'pose  an  Injun  man,  he 
see  a  white  man's  wife.  He  like  her.  He  give  pres- 
ents; he  win  her  heart;  he  talk  to  her  sometime. 
He  tell  her,  "  Come  go  with  me."  She  come.  He 
take  her  away.  White  man  come  home.  He  no  see 
his  wife.  He  see  him  children  cry.  He  get  mad.  He 
take  a  gun.     He  hunt  'em.    He  find  em.    He  'shoot 


^^/' 


264 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


'em,  one 


'' 


m  !■ 


Injun  man.  What  you  think?  You  think 
white  man  law  hang  him?"  "VVe  were  travelling 
horseback,  and  "  Bio  "  came  up  close  to  me,  leaning 
from  his  saddle,  and,  peering  into  my  eyes,  continued, 
"What  you  think?"  I  looked  into  his  face,  and  read 
murder  very  plainly.  Had  he  been  a  white  man  I 
might  have  given  him  a  negative  answer.  Half 
savage  as  he  was,  he  was  seeking  for  encouragement 
to  commit  a  bloody  deed  in  vindication  of  his  honor. 
I  replied  that  "the  law  would  punish  the  Indians  for 
stealing  the  white  man's  wife.  But  if  the  white  man 
was  wise  he  would  not  kill  the  Indian,  because  the 
laws  would  take  hold  of  him."  I  felt  that  I  was  con- 
cealing a  part  of  the  truth,  but  I  dared  not  do  other- 
wise. 

"  Bio  "  was  not  so  easily  put  off.  He  replied  with 
a  question  that  intensified  my  perplexity,  "  S'pose 
white  man  steal  Injun's  wife,  s'pose  law  catch  Mmf'* 
Harder  to  answer  than  the  first  one.  If  I  said 
"  Yes,"  he  would  have  demanded  that  the  law  be  en- 
forced in  his  case,  that  had  come  under  my  own 
observation;  and  that,  I  knew,  was  impossible,  with 
public  sentiment  so  strongly  against  the  Indians  that 
white  men  would  have  laughed  at  the  absurdity  of 
calling  one  of  their  race  to  account  for  so  trifling  a 
thing  as  breaking  up  an  Indian's  family,  and  leaving 
his  children  worse  than  orphans;  yet  knowing  full 
well  that  the  whole  power  of  the  United  States  would 
have  been  evoked  to  punish  an  Indian  for  a  like 
offence.  If  I  said  "  No,"  I  stultified  myself  and  my 
Government.  I  could  only  reply,  "  Suppose  a  woman 
run  away,  —  let  her  go.  Get  a  divorce,  and  then 
another  wife." 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


265 


**  Now-wit-ka,  Ni-kanan-itch."  "Yes,  I  see.  Law 
not  all  the  time  same.  Made  crooked.  Made  for 
white  man.     Aha,  me  see  'em  now." 

During  the  seven  days'  council,  "  Little  Sallie " 
came  into  the  office,  and  in  plain  "  Boston  "  said,  "  I 
want  divorce;  my  man,  Cho-kus,  he  buy  another 
woman.  I  no  like  him  have  two  wife.  I  want  di- 
vorce." 

We  had  just  completed  the  organization  of  a  court, 
composed  of  the  head  chief  and  his  eight  subordi- 
nates. This  was  the  first  case  on  the  docket,  and  the 
beginning  of  a  new  history  with  this  people,  —  a  new 
way  of  settling  difficulties.  The  a<»'cnt  provided  a 
book  for  making  record  of  all  proceedings.  A  sheriff 
was  appointed  from  among  the  Indians.  Each  sub- 
chief  was  entitled  to  a  constable,  but,  in  all  matters 
pertaining  to  their  respective  bands,  as  between  them- 
selves and  others,  neither  sub-chief  nor  constable  was 
permitted  to  take  any  part  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
court. 

Novel  scenes  indeed!  — Lidians  holding  '"ourt  after 
the  fashion  of  white  men.  The  chief  made  a  short 
speech  on  taking  the  middle  seat  on  "  The  Bench." 
He  removed  his  hat,  saying  "  that  he  knew  but  little 
about  the  new  law,  but  he  would  endeavor  to  make  it 
run  straight,  and  not  run  around  his  own  people,"  re- 
ferring to  those  of  his  band.  Th'i  sub-chiefs  took 
their  places  on  cither  side,  and  we  gave  instructions 
to  the  sheriff  to  open  court,  ordering  a  white  man  to 
show  him  through,  saying,  "Olb-yes!  Oh-yesI  The 
Klamath  Court  is  now  open."  —  "  i^ow-witka,  Now- 
witka,  Muck-u-lux,  Klamath,  Mam-ook,  Bos-ti-na 
Law,  0-ko-ke,  Sun,"  rang  cut  the  Indian  sheriff. 


266 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


I;.i 


"  Little  Sallie  "  was  the  first  to  appear  before  the 
bar  of  justice,  and,  without  an  attorney,  she  filed  a 
complaint  against  her  husband,  the  substance  of 
which  was  to  the  effect,  that  "  Cho-kus  "  —  her  mas- 
ter—  had  made  arrangements  to  buy  another  wife, 
paying  two  horses;  and  that  these  horses  belonged  to 
her  mdividually,  and  she  was  not  willing  to  furnish 
horses  to  buy  another  woman,  because  it  would  leave 
but  one  horse  in  the  family,  and  that  Cho-kus  and 
th3  new  wife  would  claim  that  one,  and  she  would  be 
compelled  to  go  on  foot.  If  Cho-kus  had  plenty  of 
horses  she  might  not  object;  but  she  thought  that  she 
could  dig  roots,  and  gather  '^  wokus  "  —  wild  rice  — 
enough  for  the  family,  and  Cho-kus  did  not  need 
another  "nohow."  But,  if  he  persisted,  then  she 
wanted  a  Boston  divorce,  otherwise  she  did  not. 

Cho-kus  was  required  to  show  cause  why  "  Sallie  " 
should  not  be  made  free.  He  appeared  in  person, 
and  expressed  willingness  for  the  separation,  but 
asked  to  know  who  would  be  awarded  the  baby,  —  a 
little  fellow  twelve  months  old.  The  court  decided 
that  "Sallie"  should  have  possession  of  the  child. 
Cho-kus  took  it  from  its  mother's  arms,  and,  holding 
it  in  his  own,  looked  very  earnestly  and  silently  into 
its  face  for  a  moment.  His  speech  ran  in  something 
like  the  following  words:  "N^ow  half  this  baby's 
heart  is  mine,  half  its  heart  belongs  to  '  Sallie.' " 
Then  slowly  drawing  the  little  finger  of  one  hand 
from  its  forehead  down  its  face  and  body,  he  went  on 
to  say,  "  I  want  tliis  child's  heart,  and  '  Sallie '  wants 
it;  if  we  cut  into  it  it  will  die;  I  can't  give  up  my  part 
of  it."  Sallie  attempted  to  snatch  it  away,  saying, 
"  I  won't  give  up  my  part  of  the  baby."    This  brought 


WIGWAM   AND  WAEPATH. 


267 


the  husband  to  terms.  He  said  he  would  give  up 
taking  another  wife.  Sallie  agreed,  and  the  court 
proposed  that,  instead  of  being  divorced,  they  should 
be  married  over  by  "  Boston  law."  They  consented. 
The  ceremony  was  defen-ed  in  order  to  make  prepa- 
ration for  the  approaching  nuptials,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  new  law. 

The  white  ladies  of  the  agency,  some  of  whom 
were  unmanied,  proposed  to  adorn  the  bride,  while 
the  employes  furnished  enough  Sunday  clothes  to 
dress  the  husband  in  good  style.  Employes  and  In- 
dians were  uolilied  of  the  important  affair,  and  the 
court  adjourned  to  the  big  camp-fi  e,  in  order  to  per- 
form the  marriage  ceremony  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
peoi)le.  The  presiding  judge  pro  tern,  ordered  the 
parties  to  appear. 

The  groom,  dressed  in  a  borrowed  suit,  was  the 
fii'st  to  stand  up.  Sallie  hesitated;  the  husband  in- 
sisted. The  bride  was  reluctant,  saying  she  wanted 
to  know  how  long  the  new  law  would  hold  "  Cho- 
kus." —  "  Is  it  a  strong  law  ?  Won't  he  buy  another  wife 
some  time?"  When  all  the  questions  were  answered 
to  her  satisfaction,  she  passed  her  child  over  to  another 
woman,  and  stood  beside  her  lover.  Yes,  her  lover; 
for  he  then  discovered  that  he  really  loved  her,  just 
as  many  a  white-faced  man  has  in  similar  cases,  when 
he  realized  the  danger  of  losing  her. 

The  official  reporter,  on  this  occasion,  did  not  fur- 
nish an  account  of  the  bride's  dress,  but  for  the  sat- 
isfaction, it  may  be,  to  my  young  lady  readers,  I  will 
say  that  the  toilet  was  elaborately  gotten  up  a-la- 
mode,  consisting  of  immense  tilting  hoops,  bright- 
hued  goods  for  dress,  paint  in  profusion  on  her  cheeks, 


2G8 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


I 


i^  II 


necklace  of  beads,  and  shells,  and  tresses  of  dark 
hair,  "  all  her  own^'*  ornamented  with  cheap  jewelry. 
This  being  the  first  marriage  under  the  new  law,  the 
chief  remarked  that  he  wished  them  "  tied  very  strong, 
so  they  could  not  get  away  from  each  other." 

We  extemporized  the  ceremony  as  follows :  "  Cho- 
kus,  do  you  agree  to  live  forever  with  Sallie,  and  not  buy 
another  squaw?  To  do  the  hunting  and  fishing,  cut 
wood  and  haul  it  up,  like  white  man?  ^ever  to  get 
drunk,  oi-  talk  bad  to  other  women,  and  to  be  a  good, 
faithful  husband?"  When  the  ceremony  was  inter- 
preted, he  answered,  "Now-wit-ka  ni-hi;"  yes,  I  do. 
Sallie  said,  "Hold  on, — I  want  him  married  to  me  so  he 
won't  whip  me  any  more."  We  adopted  the  supple- 
ment suggested,  and  Cho-kus  again  said,  "  Now-wit- 
ka."  The  bride  said  "^All  right,"  and  promised  to  be  a 
good  wife,  to  take  care  of  the  lodge  and  the  baby,  to 
dress  the  deer-skins,  and  dry  the  roots. 

Cho-kus  also  suggested  a  supplement,  which  was, 
that  Sallie  must  not  "  go  to  the  fort "  any  more  with- 
out him.  She  assented,  with  a  proviso  that  he  would 
not  go  to  see  "  old  Mose-en-kos-ket's  "  daughter  any 
more. 

The  covenant  was  now  completed,  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  bride  and  bridegroom,  and  the  Great  Spirit 
was  invoked  to  witness  the  pledges  made;  their  hands 
were  joined,  and  they  were  pronounced  husband  and 
wife.  A  waggish  white  man  whispered  to  Allen 
David,  the  chief,  that  the  bride  must  be  saluted.  The 
chief  inquired  whether  that  was  the  way  of  the  new 
law,  saying  he  wanted  "a  real  Boston  wedding." 
We  said  to  Cho-kus,  "Salute  your  bride."  He  re- 
plied he  thought  the  ceremony  was  oyer;  but,  when 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


269 


made  to  understand  what  the  salute  meant,  replied 
that  it  was  not  modest;  that  no  Indian  man  ever 
kissed  a  woman  in  public.  We  urged  that  it  was  right 
under  the  new  law.  He  remarked  that  somebody  else 
must  kiss  her;  he  didn't  intend  to.  Our  waggish 
friend  again  whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  chief,  telling 
him  that  the  officiating  clergyman  must  perform  the 
duty  to  make  the  marriage  legal.  "With  solemn  face, 
the  chief  insisted  that  the  whole  law  must  be  met. 

The  parties  remained  standing  while  this  contro- 
versy was  going  on.  The  bride  was  willing  to  be 
saluted,  but  the  question  was,  ivlio  was  to  perform 
that  part  of  tlie  closing  ceremony.  The  record  don't 
mention  the  name  of  the  individual,  and  it  is  perhaps 
as  well.     The  bride,  however,  was  saluted, 

No, /didn't,  indeed;  I  —  don't  press  the  question 
—  but  I  di — .  No,  no,  it  was  not  m — ,  indeed  it 
wasn't;  but  I  won't  tell  anything  about  it.  As  a 
faithful  reporter,  I  will  only  add  that  the  happy  couple 
received  the  congratulations  of  friends.  They  are 
still  married,  and  Cho-kus  hasn't  bought  another  wife 
yet. 

The  next  case  called  was  a  young  man  who  had 
stolen  the  daughter  of  a  sub-chief.  He  was  arraigned, 
"plead  guilty,"  and  by  the  court  sentenced  to  wear 
six  feet  of  log-chain  oii  his  leg  for  nine  months,  to 
have  his  hair  cut  short,  and  to  chop  wood  for  the 
chiefs,  who  were  to  board  and  clothe  him  in  the 
mean  time.  Care  was  taken  to  protect  the  convict's 
right,  in  that  he  should  not  work  in  bad  weather  or 
on  Sundays,  or  more  than  six  hours  each  day.  He 
objected  to  having  his  hair  cut  short,  but  otherwise 
seemed  indifferent  to  the  sentence. 


270 


WIOAVAM   AND  WArwPATH. 


I 


The  chiefs  were  satisfied,  because  they  saw  large 
piles  of  wood  in  prospect.  However,  long  before  the 
expiration  of  the  term  of  sentence  they  united  in  a 
petition  for  his  pardon. 

Cases  of  various  kinds  came  into  court  and  were 
disposed  of,  the  chief  exhibiting  more  judgment  than  is 
sometimes  found  in  more  pretentious  courts  of  justice. 

They  were  instructed,  in  regard  to  law,  that  it  was 
supposed  to  be  common  sense  and  equal  justice,  and 
that  any  law  which  did  not  recognize  these  principles 
was  not  a  good  law. 

This  court  is  still  doing  business  imder  the  direc- 
tion of  a  Government  agent.  The  wedding  of  Cho- 
kus  and  Sallie  was  celebrated  with  a  grand  dance. 
"Who  shall  say  these  people  do  not  civilize  rapidly? 
The  occasion  furnished  an  opportunity  for  the  Indian 
boys  to  air  their  paints,  feathers,  and  fine  clothes; 
also  for  Indian  maidens  and  women  to  dress  in  holi- 
day attire. 

Chief  Allen  David  had  given  orders  that  this 
"social  hop,"  commemorating  the  first  marriage  in 
civil  life,  should  be  conducted  in  civil  form.  The 
white  boys  were  willing  to  teach  the  red  ones  and 
their  partners  the  steps  of  the  new  dance. 

The  ballroom  was  lighted  up  with  great  pine  wood 
fires,  whose  light  shone  on  the  green  leaves  of  the 
sugar  pines  and  on  the  tan-colored  faces  of  the 
lookers-on.  Singular  spectacle  I  —  children  of  a  high 
civilization  leading  those  of  wilder  life  into  the  mazes 
of  this  giddy  pastime;  and  they  were  apt  scholars, 
especially  the  maidens.  The  music  was  tame;  too 
tame  for  a  people  who  are  educated  to  a  love  of 
exciting  sports. 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


271 


The  chiefs  stood  looking  on,  and,  when  occasion  re- 
quired, enforcing  the  orders  of  the  floor-managers,  who 
were  our  teamsters,  turned,  for  the  nonce,  to  dancing 
masters.  I  doubt  if  they  would  have  been  half  as 
zealous  in  a  Sabbath  school.  But  since  dancing  is  a 
part  of  American  civilization,  acknowledged  as  such 
by  good  authority,  and  since  Indians  have  a  natural 
fondness  for  amusements,  and  cannot  be  made  to 
abandon  such  recreation,  perhaps  it  was  well  that  our 
teamster  boys  were  qualified  to  teach  them  in  this, 
though  they  were  not  for  teaching  higher  lessons. 
At  our  request  we  were  entertained  with  an  Indian 
play.  'No  phase  of  civilized  life  exists  that  has  not  its 
rude  counterpart  in  Indian  life.  This  entertainment  of 
which  I  am  writing  was  given  by  professional  players, 
who  evinced  real  talent.  All  the  people  took  great 
interest  in  the  preparations,  inasmuch  as  we  had 
honored  them  by  making  the  request.  The  theatre 
was  large  and  commodious,  well  lighted  with  huge 
log  fires.  The  foot-lights  were  of  pitch  wood.  The 
hoards  were  sanded  years  befoi'c,  and  had  been  often 
carpeted  with  velvet  green  or  snowy  white.  The 
"  Green-rooms  "  were  of  white  tent  cloths,  fasMoncd 
for  the  purpose  by  brown  hands,  and  were  in  close 
proximity  to  the  scene.  The  front  seats  were 
"  reserved  "  for  invited  guests.  The  rest  was  "  stand- 
ing room."  Circling  round  in  dusky  rows  stood  the 
patient  throng.  Nor  stamps,  nor  whistles,  nor  other 
hideous  noises  gave  evidence  of  bad-breeding  or 
undue  impatience.  No  police  force  was  necessary 
there  to  compel  the  audience  to  respect  the  players  or 
each  other's  rights. 

As  the  time  to  begin  comes  round  a  silence  pervades 


272 


WIGWAM   AND   WAKPATH. 


!    ' 


the  assembly.  No  huge  bill-posters,  or  "  flyers,''  or 
other  programme  had  'given  even  an  inkling  of  tue 
play.  This  was  as  it  should  be  everywhere,  for  then 
no  promises  were  made  to  be  broken,  and  no  fault 
could  be  found,  whether  the  play  was  good  or  bad. 
The  knowing  ones,  aware,  by  signs  we  did  not  see, 
that  soon  the  performance  would  commence,  by 
motion  of  hand  or  eye  would  say,  "  Be  still." 

Now  we  hear  a  female  voice,  soft  and  low,  singing, 
and  coming  from  some  unseen  lodge.  It  grows 
more  distinct  each  moment  and  more  plaintive,  and 
liiially  the  singer  comes  into  the  circle  with  a  half 
dance,  the  music  of  her  voice  broken  by  occasional 
sobs,  makes  the  circuit  of  the  stage,  growing  weary 
and  sobbing  oftcner;  she  at  last  draps  down  in  weary, 
careless  abandonment.  This  maiden  was  attired  in 
showy  dress,  of  wild  Indian  costume,  ornamented  with 
beads  and  tinsel.  Iler  cheeks  and  haii*  were  painted 
with  vermilion.  The  frock  she  wore  was  short, 
reaching  only  to  the  knee.  Close-fitting  garments  of 
scarlet  cloth,  richly  trimmed  with  beads,  and  fringe  of 
deer-skin  she  wore  upon  her  ankles,  with  feet  encased 
in  dainty  moccasins.  When  she  sat  down,  the  picture 
was  that  of  one  tasting  the  bitter  with  the  sweets  of 
life,  in  which  joy  and  sorrow  in  alternate  promptings 
came  and  went.  The  sobbing  would  cease  while  she 
gathered  flowers  that  grew  within  her  reach,  arrang- 
ing them  in  bunches,  seemingly  absorbed  in  other 
thoughts,  occasionally  giving  vent  in  half-stifled,  child- 
like sobs,  or  muttering  in  broken  sentences,  with 
parting  lips,  complaints  against  her  cruel  father, 
giving  emphasis  with  her  head  to  her  half-uttered 
speech. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


273 


Following  the  eyes  of  our  Indian  interpreter,  whose 
quick  ear  had  caught  the  sound  of  coming  steps,  we 
saw  a  fine-looking  young  brave  enter  the  ring,  crouch- 
ing and  silent  as  a  panther's  tread,  and,  scanning  the 
surroundings,  he  espies  the  maiden.  We  hear  a  sound 
so  low  that  we  imagine  it  is  but  the  chirping  of  a  tiny 
bird;  but  it  catches  the  maiden's  ear,  who  raises  her 
head  and  listens,  waiting  for  the  sound,  and  then  re- 
lapses into  half-subdued  silence.  Meanwhile  the 
young  brave  gazes,  with  bright  eyes  and  parted  lips, 
on  the  maiden.  Again  he  chirps.  Now  she  looks 
around  and  catches  his  eye,  but  does  not  scream,  or 
make  other  noises,  until,  by  pantomimic  words,  they 
understand  they  are  alone. 

The  warrior  breaks  out  in  a  wild  song  of  love,  and, 
keeping  time  with  his  voice,  with  short,  soft,  dancing 
step,  he  passes  round  the  maiden,  who  plays  coquette, 
and  seems  to  be  fully  on  her  ground.  I^e  grows 
more  earnest,  and  raises  his  voice,  quickens  his  steps, 
and,  passing  close  before  her,  ojQfers  his  love,  and  pro- 
poses marriage,  speaks  her  name,  and,  turning  quickly 
again,  passes  back  and  forth,  each  time  pleading  his 
case  more  earnestly,  until  the  maiden,  woman-like, 
feigns  resentment,  and  he,  poor  fellow,  thinks  she 
means  what  she  does  not,  and  slowly  and  sadly,  in 
apparent  despair,  retreats  to  the  farther  side  of  the 
stage.  When  he  came  upon  the  scene,  clad  in  his 
dress  of  deer-skins,  hunting-shirt  and  leggings,  with 
moccasins  trimmed  with  beads  and  scarlet  cloth,  his 
long  hair  ornamented  with  eagle  feathers,  and  neck 
encircled  with  the  claws  of  wild  cayotes,  his  arms  with 
a  score  of  rings,  his  scarlet  blanket  girded  round  his 
waist,  and  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground, —  swinging 


274 


WIOWAItf   AND  WARPATH. 


to  his  back,  his  quiver  full  of  painted  arrows,  whose 
feathered  ends  shone  above  his  shoulder;  his  left 
hand  clasping  an  Indian  bow,  while  his  right  held  his 
blanket  in  rude  drapery  around  him, — he  was  the 
very  image  of  the  real  live  young  Indian  brave.  But 
now,  with  blanket  drawn  over  his  shoulder,  covering 
his  arms,  while  the  feathers  in  his  hair  and  the  arrows 
were  held  tightly  to  his  head  and  neck,  he  seemed  the 
neglected  lover  he  thought  himself. 

Poor  Ke-how-la,  you  do  not  appear  to  know  that 
Ganweta  is  playing  prude  with  you.  Ke-how-la 
breaks  out  afresh,  in  song  and  dance,  and,  circling 
around  the  maiden,  gives  vent  to  his  wounded  pride, 
declares  that  he  will  wed  another,  and,  as  if  to  retire, 
he  turns  from  her.  Ganweta,  as  all  her  sex  will  do, 
discovers  that  she  has  carried  the  joke  too  far,  springs 
up,  and,  throwing  a  bunch  of  flowers  over  his  head, 
begins  to  tell,  in  song,  that  she  dare  not  listen  to  his 
words,  because  her  father  demands  a  price  for  her  that 
Ke-how-la  cannot  pay,  since  he  is  poor  in  horses;  but 
that,  if  left  to  choice,  she  would  be  his  wife,  and  gather 
roots,  and  dress  deer-skins,  and  be  his  slave. 

Ke-how-la  listens  with  head  half  turned,  and  then 
replies  that  he  w^ill  carry  her  away  until  her  father's 
anger  shall  be  passed. 

Ganweta  tells  how  brave  and  strong  her  father  is, 
and  that  he  intends  to  sell  her  to  another. 

Ke-how-la  boasts  of  his  skill  in  archery,  and,  drop- 
ping his  blanket  from  his  shoulder  and  stringing  his 
bow,  quickly  snatches  an  arrow  from  his  fawn-skin 
quiver,  and  sends  it  into  a  target  centre,  and  then 
another  by  its  side,  and  still  another,  until  he  makes  a 
real  bouquet  of  feathered  arrows  stand  out  on  the  tar- 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATH, 


275 


get's  face,  in  proof  of  his  ability  to  defend  her  from 
her  father's  wrath. 

Snatching  his  arrows,  and  putting  them  in  place 
among  their  fello,\rs,  save  one  he  holds  in  his  hand, 
he  motions  her  to  come,  and,  bounding  away  like  an 
antlercd  deer,  he  runs  around  the  circle  with  Ganweta 
following  like  a  frightened  fawn.  They  pass  off  the 
scene.  The  braves  sent  by  the  father  come  on 
stealthily,  scanning  the  ground  to  detect  any  sign 
that  would  be  evidence  that  the  lovers  had  been 
there.  Stooping  low  and  pointing  with  his  finger  to 
the  tracks  left,  a  warrior  gives  signal  that  he  has 
found  the  trail,  and  then  the  party  starts  in  quick 
pursuit,  following  round  where  Ke-how-la  and  Gan- 
weta had  passed,  who,  still  fleeing,  come  in  on  the 
opposite  side,  and,  walking  slowly  backward,  he,  step- 
ping in  her  tracks,  intending  thus  to  mislead  the 
pursuers,  then,  anon,  throwing  his  arm  around  her, 
would  carry  her  a  few  steps,  and,  dropping  her  on 
the  ground,  they  would  resume  the  flight. 

The  pursuers  appear  baffled;  but  with  cunning 
ways  they  find  the  trail,  and  resume  with  quickened 
steps  the  chase. 

Suddenly  Ke-how-la  stops  and  listens.  His  face 
declares  that  he  has  knowledge  of  the  coming 
struggle,  —  that  he  must  fight.  Bidding  Ganweta 
haste  away,  he  takes  a  station  near  a  tree,  and  awaits 
the  pursuers.  They  seem  to  be  aware  that  he  is 
there,  and,  drawing  their  bows,  prepare  to  fight. 
See  Ke-how-la  expose  his  blanket,  the  pursuers  letting 
two  arrows  fly,  one  of  them  striking  it,  the  other  the 
tree.  A  twang  from  Ke-how-la's  bow,  and  a  howl  of 
pain,  and  a  red-skinned  pursuer  in  agony  has   an 


276 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


(I 
I' 


i 


ii 


'I 
i<    1 
,11    'I 


!ii' 


I 


Ii 


arrow  in  his  lieart,  and  then  the  arrows  fly  in  quick 
succession,  until  the  hero  sends  his  antagonists  to  the 
happy  hunting-ground  of  their  futhers,  and  with 
apparent  earnestness  he  scalps  his  foes. 

With  his  trophies  hanging  to  his  belt,  he  calls, 
"  Ganweta,  Kaitch  Kona  Ganweta  I "  —  Beautiful 
Ganweta;  but  he  calls  in  vain.  While  Kc-how-la 
was  fighting,  a  brave  of  another  tribe  carries  off  the 
shrinking  maiden,  and  escapes  to  his  people. 

Ke-how-la  takes  the  trail,  and  follows  by  the  signs 
Ganweta  had  left  on  her  involuntary  flight,  and  dis- 
covers her  surrounded  by  his  enemies.  He  returns 
to  his  own  people  for  assistance.  He  finds  friends 
willing  to  follow  him.  Ganweta's  father  is  recon- 
ciled with  him,  and  gives  his  consent  to  his  marriage 
when  he  shall  have  brought  Ganweta  home.  A 
party  is  formed,  and  after  the  war-dance  and  other 
savage  ceremonies,  they  go  on  the  warpath.  Then 
we  see  the  warriors  fight  a  sham  battle  with  real  war- 
whoops  and  scalping  ceremonies.  The  arrows  fly, 
and  the  wounded  fall,  and  the  victors  secure  the 
scalps  and  also  the  captive  maiden,  and,  with  wild 
sports,  return  to  the  lodge  of  Ganweta's  father. 

This  performance  lasted  about  three  hours,  and 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  the  interest  increased, 
winding  up  with  a  scalp-dance. 

I  have  never  witnessed  a  play  better  performed, 
and  certainly  never  with  imitation  so  close  to  reality. 
It  demonstrated  that  talent  does  not  belong  to  any 
privileged  race;  that  Indians  are  endowed  with  love 
for  amusements,  and  that  they  possess  dbility  to 
create  and  perform. 

If  it  is  urged  that  such  plays  foster  savage  habits 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


277 


among  the  Indian^!,  the  excuse  must  be  that  they  were 
true  to  the  scenes  of  their  own  lives  and  in  conformity 
with  the  tastes  of  the  people,  as  all  theatricals  are 
supposed  to  be. 

It  hud  one  merit  that  many  plays  lack.  Its  actors 
were  natural,  and  no  unseemly  struts  and  false  steps, 
or  rude  and  uncouth  exhibitions  of  dexterity  or  un- 
seemly attitudes,  that  make  modest  people  hide  their 
eyes  in  very  shame,  were  indulged  in  by  the  players. 

The  Indians  of  Oregon  and  of  the  Pacific  coast 
wear  long  hair ;  at  least,  until  they  change  their 
mode  of  life,  they  have  a  great  aversion  to  cutting  it, 
and,  in  fact,  it  is  almost  the  last  personal  habit  they 
give  up.  Before  leaving  this  agency,  I  proposed  to 
give  a  new  hat  to  each  man  who  would  consent  to 
have  his  hair  cut  short.  The  proposition  was  not  well 
received  at  first,  because  of  their  old-time  religious 
faith,  which  in  some  way  connected  long  hair  with 
religious  ceremony.  It  is  safe  to  assert,  that,  when- 
ever an  Oregon  Indian  is  seen  without  long  hair, 
he  has  abandoned  his  savage  religion.  Before  leav- 
ing, however,  I  was  assured  that  I  might  send  out  the 
hat  for  ovev  one  hundred. 

The  following  summer,  when  making  an  official 
visit,  I  took  with  me  four  hundred  hats.  When  the 
question  was  brought  up,  and  the  hats  were  in  sight, 
a  flurry  was  visible  among  the  men.  The  chief,  Allen 
David,  led  the  way,  begging  for  a  long  cut.  A  com- 
promise was  made,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  hair 
should  be  cut  just  half-way  down.  With  this  un- 
derstanding, the  barber's  shop  was  instituted,  and 
long  black  hair  enough  to  make  a  Boston  hair  mer- 
chant rich  was  cut  off  and  burned  up. 


Wil 


k 


278 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


I 


!l       I 


The  metamorphosis  was  very  noticeable.  Many 
ludicrous  scenes  were  presented  in  connection  with, 
and  gi*ew  out  of,  this  episode.  A  great  step  forward 
had  been  made,  and  one,  too,  that  will  not  "slip 
back." 

When  O-che-o  came  out  of  the  room,  after  his  head 
had  been  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  under  a  barber's 
hands,  he  presented  a  comical  spectacle.  His  children 
did  not  know  him;  some  of  his  older  friends  did  not 
recognize  in  him  the  chief  of  other  days. 


|i 


3.  i! 


!    i 


"., 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


OMELETC   AND   ARROWS  -  BIG   STEAM-BOILERS. 


Ax  Indian  game  of  ball  is  not  exactly  like 
America's  great  game  of  base  ball.  It  resembles, 
somewhat,  the  old  game  of  shindy  or  bandy.  The 
field  is  one-fourth  of  a  mile  in  length,  and  one-eighth 
in  width.  Stakes  are  planted  at  either  end,  and  also 
in  the  middle.  The  jilayers  pair  otf  until  all  are 
chosen  who  desire  to  play.  Captains  are  elected 
who  command  the  players  of  each  side,  and  take 
their  stations  at  the  middle  stakes,  ananging  their 
men  on  either  side,  each  of  whom  is  provided  with  a 
club  three  feet  in  length,  having  a  short  crook  at  the 
lower  end.  The  ball  is  fashioned  out  of  a  tough 
knot  of  wood,  and  is  about  three  inches  in  diameter, 
and  burnt  by  fire  until  it  is  charred  sliglitly,  thus 
making  it  of  black  color.  This  game  is  called  "  ko- 
ho,"'  and  is  won  by  the  party  who  succeeds  in 
knocking  the  ball  with  the  club  to  the  home  base  at 
the  opposite  end  of  the  ground. 

A  game  of  "ko-ho"  attracts  much  attention;  old 
and  5'oung,  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind,  all  go  to  witness 
the  sport;  the  latter,  probably,  to  hear  the  boisterous 
shouts  that  attend  the  playing.  iSometimcs  it  is  made 
the  occasion  for  gambling,  and  then  the  excitement 
becomes  intense. 

Another  game  is  played,  with  two  pieces  of  wood 
six  inches   long   and   about   one    inch   in   diameter, 


280 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


liJ'^:: 


i>  )' 


securely  connected  by  a  thong  of  rawhide,  about 
four  inches  apart;  the  game,  as  in  "ko-ho,"  being 
to  toss  this  plaything  with  straight  clubs  to  a  home 
base;  the  parties  struggling  as  in  the  other  game. 
Foot-ball  is  not  uncommon,  and  great  iiontests  are 
had  over  this  game  also. 

Civilized  American  gambling  cards  are  common, 
and  are  played  in  games  that  have  no  existence 
among  white  people ;  though  Indians  are  expert  in  all 
common  games,  and  become,  like  their  white  brother, 
infatuated,  and  gamble  with  desperation.  Gambling 
seems  to  be  a  passion  among  them.  It  is  not 
uncommon  to  see  the  yoimger  men  of  tribes  that  are 
uncivilized,  seated  on  the  ground,  and,  with  a  blanket 
spread  over  their  limbs,  all  pointing  toward  a  common 
centre,  gambling  with  small  sticks  of  wood,  the  parties 
alternately  mixing  their  hands  under  the  blanket, 
changing  the  sticks  from  one  hand  to  the  other  while 
they  sing  a  low  melody;  and,  when  withdrawing  the 
hands,  the  other  Indians  point  to  the  hand  they  sup- 
pose to  be  the  holder  of  the  sticks,  thus  indicating 
the  one  selected  as  the  winning  hand.  When  the 
bets  are  all  made  the  holder  opens  both  hands,  and 
thus  declares  the  result.  Tho  favorite  sport  of  the 
Indians  is  horse-racing;  but,  like  other  people,  they 
gamble  on  almost  everything.  Among  them  are 
natural  professional  «:amblers.  This  passion  is  a  fruit- 
ful source  of  poverty;  and  many  con!}>laints  are  made 
by  young,  green  ones,  against  red-lcggcd  sharps. 

An  Indian  woman  filed  a  complaint  against  "Long 
John,"  an  Indian  gambler,  charging  him  with  ha\ing 
swindled  her  son,  a  boy  of  eighteen  or  twenty  years 
of  age,  out  of  a  number  of  horses  that  belonged  to 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


281 


the  family.  She  asserted  that  they  were  poor;  that 
the  loss  was  too  much  to  bear  in  silence,  and  that, 
since  her  son  was  a  boy,  not  a  man,  "  Long  John  " 
ought  to  return  the  horses.  This  famous  gambler 
was  ordered  to  appear.  The  ease  was  investigated. 
"  Long  John  "  pleaded  guilty  as  charged  in  the  in- 
dictment, but  oftered  the  old  Indian  law  as  an  excuse. 
He  finally  proposed  to  return  the  horses,  oii  condition 
that  the  boy  would  abandon  the  habit.  The  boy 
promised;  the  property  was  returned;  and  the  old 
woman  went  away  happy  in  the  possess'on  of  her 
restored  fortune ;  for  it  was  to  her  what  business  and 
home  are  to  wealthy  people.  Under  the  new  law 
gambling  is  prohibited  by  a  fine ;  but  the  Indians  find 
ways  to  avoid  the  law,  and  gambling  is  now,  and  will 
continue  to  be,  common  among  them. 

These  people  have  a  beautiful  country,  with  a  cold 
climate,  being  at  an  altitude  of  four  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea  level.  Snows  of  two  to  four  feet  deep 
are  not  uncommon.  The  rivers  and  lakes  are  well 
supplied  with  fish,  the  mountains  with  game,  the  land 
with  berries  and  wild  roots. 

Big  Klamath  marsh  is  situated  twenty  miles  north 
of  the  Great  Klamath  lake.  It  is  six  miles  wide  and 
twenty  long,  and  receives  its  water  from  the  south 
side  of  the  Blue  mountains.  This  marsh  is  covered 
with  a  growth  of  pond-lilies,  that  furnish  immense 
supplies  of  wo-cus  (seed  of  lily).  It  is  a  great  rendez- 
vous for  several  tribes  who  come  to  gather  wo-cus- 
The  main  stem  of  this  plant  first  blossoms  on  the  top 
of  the  water,  and,  as  the  seasons  advance,  the  flower 
matures  and  rises  above  the  surface  one  or  two  feet, 
and  forms  a  large  pod,  of  four  inches  in  length  and 


282 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


'■' 


three  in  diameter.  The  Indians  go  out  among  the 
lilies  in  canoes,  and  gather  the  bowls  or  pods  while 
green,  spread  them  out  in  the  sun,  and  when  cured 
they  are  beaten  with  sticks  until  the  seeds  fall  out. 
These  are  put  in  sacks  and  carried  home,  cached 
(buried  in  cellars)  until  required  for  use.  Then  the 
seeds  are  thrown  into  a  shallow  basket,  with  li\^, 
coals  of  fire,  and  roasted,  after  which  it  is  ground  by 
hand  on  flat  rocks. 

It  is  a  nutritious  food,  and,  when  properly  pre- 
pared, not  unpalatable.  The  Klamaths  use  it  in 
soups,  and  often  prepare  it  by  mixing  like  flour  into 
cakes,  which  they  bake  in  the  ashes.  This  article  of 
wo-cus  is  abundant,  available,  and  altogether  suflScient 
to  furnish  subsistence  for  all  the  Indians  in  Oregon. 
To  this  wo-cus  field  the  natives  have  for  generations 
past  gone  for  supplies,  and  in  the  mean  time  to  ex- 
change slaves,  gamble,  and  hold  great  councils.  Many 
stirring  scenes  have  been  enacted  at  this  place  that 
would  furnish  foundation  for  romantic  story  or  bloody 
tragedy. 

The  lakes  of  Klamath  are  great  resorts  for  the 
feathery  tribes,  which  come  with  the  spring  and 
sojourn  through  the  summer.  The  people  luxuriate 
on  the  eggs  of  these  wild  fowls.  They  go  out  into 
the  tall  tule  (grass)  in  canoes,  and  collect  them  in 
large  quantities.  "  The  egg  season "  lasts  until  the 
hatching  season  is  over^  the  Indians  cooking  un- 
hatched  birds,  and  eating  them  with  as  much  avidity 
and  as  little  thought  of  indecency  as  ^New  England 
people  cook  and  eat  clams,  oysters,  or  herrings. 

The  young  fowls  are  captured  in  nets.  The  ar- 
rangement is  quite  cunning,  and,  although  primitive 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


283 


in  construction,  evinces  some  inventive  genius.  A  cii*- 
cular  net  is  made  three  feet  in  diameter,  and  to  the 
outer  edge  are  attached  eight  or  ten  small  rods  of  half- 
inch  diameter,  and  about  ^fteen  inches  in -length; 
three  inches  from  the  lower  end,  which  is  sharpened 
to  a  point,  the  net  is  attached.  The  upper  end  of 
the  rods  are  bevelled  on  one  side,  and  inserted 
into  a  rude  socket,  in  the  end  of  a  shaft  ten  feet 
long. 

Armed  with  this  trap,  the  hunter  crawls  on  the 
ground  until  he  is  within  safe  distance  of  the  mother- 
bird  and  her  little  flock,  when,  suddenly  springing  up, 
the  old  birds,  geese  or  ducks,  as  the  case  may  be,  fly 
away,  while  the  little  ones  flee  toward  the  water.  The 
Indian  launches  the  shaft  with  the  net  attached  in 
such  a  way  that  the  net  spreads  to  its  utmost  size,  the 
sharpened  points  of  the  rods  pierce  the  ground,  and, 
the  upper  end  having  left  the  socket  on  the  shaft, 
stand  in  circular  row,  holding  the  net  and  contents  to 
the  ground. 

The  Klamath  mode  of  taking  fish  is  peculiar  to 
the  Indians  of  this  lake  country.  A  canoe-shaped 
basket  is  made,  with  covering  of  willow-work  at  each 
end,  leaving  a  space  of  four  feet  in  the  middle  top  of 
the  basket.  This  basket  is  carried  out  into  the  tules 
that  adjoin  the  lakes,  and  sunk  to  the  depth  of  two 
or  three  feet.  The  fishermen  chew  dried  fish  eggs 
and  spit  them  in  the  water  over  the  basket,  until  it  is 
covered  with  the  eggs,  and  then  retire  a  short  dis- 
tance jWaiting  until  the  whitefish  come  in  large  num- 
bers over  the  basket,  when  the  fishermen  cautiously 
approach  the  covered  ends,  and  raise  it  suddenly, 
until  the  upper  edge  is  above  the  water,  and  thus 


t    >-|: 


mi^ 

;':«/.'  ->.'. 


ml 


ilili 


!l: 


t-  ; 


r^ 


284 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


entrap  hundreds  of  fish,  that  are  about  eight  inches 
in  length.  These  are  transferred  to  the  hands  of  the 
squaws,  and  by  them  are  strung  on  ropes  or  sticks 
and  placed  over  fires  until  cured,  without  salt,  after 
which  they  are  stored  for  winter  use.  This  fish  is 
very  oily  and  nutritious,  and  makes  a  valuable  food. 
Indeed,  this  country  is  more  than  ordinarily  fruitful, 
and  abounds  in  resources  suited  to  Indian  life. 

The  lakes  are  well  supplied  with  various  kinds  of 
trout.  They  are  taken  in  many  ways ;  mostly,  how- 
ever, with  hook  and  line.  I  remember,  on  one  occa- 
sion, going  to  a  small  slough  making  out  of  the  lake 
among  the  tules.  Being  prepared  with  American 
equipment  of  lines  and  flies,  I  was  sanguine  of  suc- 
cess ;  but  I  was  doomed  to  disappointment  so  far  as 
catching  trout  with  fly-hooks  was  concerned.  I 
finally  succeeded  in  capturing  a  pocketful  of  large 
black  army-crickets.  The  first  venture  with  this  bait 
was  rewarded  by  a  fine  trout  of  six  pounds'  weight. 
In  one  hour  and  a  half  I  had  twenty-four  fish,  whose 
aggregate  weight  was  one  hundred  and  four  pounds. 
They  were  mostly  golden  trout,  a  species  peculiar  to 
Klamath  lake.  They  are  similar  to  other  trout, 
except  in  the  rich  golden  color  of  their  bodies,  and  in 
the  shape  of  their  fins.  Silver  trout  are  sometimes 
caught  also,  they  taking  their  name  from  their  silver 
sides  and  the  color  of  their  flesh.  Lake  trout,  another 
species,  are  very  dark;  they  are  sharp  biters,  and  very 
game  when  hooked.  Salmon  trout,  as  the  name  indi- 
catf  /esemble  salmon  in  every  way;  so  much  so  that 
none      t  an  expert  could  distinguish  the  two. 

Still  another  kind  of  the  trout  family  are  also  in 
abundance,   called    dog    trout.      They  live    on  the 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


285 


younger  fish  of  their  own  species;  do  not  run  in 
schools,  but  solitary  and  alone,  devouring  the  small 
ones.  I  have  caught  them  with  the  tails  of  little  fish 
sticking  in  their  mouths.  Brook  trout  may  be  found 
in  the  smaller  streams;  they  are  identical  with  those 
of  New  England. 

The  wild  game  consists  of  deer  and  elk,  which  are 
still  abundant  and  furnish  subsistence;  and,  until 
these  people  sold  their  birthrights  and  received  in 
exchange  therefor  clothing  and  blankets,  —  a  mere 
mess  of  pottage,  —  afforded  material  for  warming 
their  bodies.  These  sources  of  supply,  together  with 
the  wild  fowls,  which  congregate  in  innumerable  quan- 
tities, all  go  to  make  up  a  country  well  adapted  to 
wild  Indian  life,  requiring  but  reasonable  exertion  to 
secure  subsistence  and  clothing. 

Although  the  country  is  high  and  cold,  and  the 
major  portion  covered  in  winter  with  deep  snows, 
there  are  small  valleys  and  belts  of  country  where 
snow  never  lies  on  the  ground  for  any  considerable 
length  of  time,  and  the  stock  cattle  and  horses  live 
through  the  winter  without  care. 

When  the  railroad  shall  have  been  built,  connecting 
the  lake  country  with  the  outside  world,  it  will  afford 
large  supplies  of  fish,  game,  wild  fowls,  eggs,  feathers, 
ice,  and  lumber  of  the  choicest  kinds.  Already  has 
the  keen  eye  of  the  white  man  discovered  its  many 
inducements  and  tempting  offers  of  business. 

Big  Klamath  lake  is  twenty  miles  wide  and  forty 
miles  long;  a  most  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  dotted 
with  small  islands.  Its  average  depth  is,  perhaps, 
forty  feet,  surrounded  on  two  sides  with  heavy  forests 
of  timber;   on  the  others,  with  valleys  of  sure  and 


M 


1  y; 


m 


.I'M 


i 


I    ill;! 


Fir 


'1-     ii! 


n 


286 


WIGWAJI   AND  WARPATH. 


productive  soil,  when  once  science  shall  have  taught 
the  people  how  to  accommodate  the  agriculture  to 
the  climate.  This  lake  has  a  connection  with  those 
below,  called  Link  river,  a  short  stream  of  but  four 
miles,  through  which  vast  volumes  of  water  find  out- 
let, over  sweeping  rapids,  falling  at  the  rate  of  one 
hundred  feet  to  the  mile. 

The  power  that  wastes  itself  in  Link  river  would 
move  machinery  that  would  convert  the  immense 
forests  into  merchandise,  and  put  music  into  a  million 
spindles,  giving  employment  to  thousands  of  hands 
who  are  willing  to  toil  for  reward. 

Nature  has  also  favored  this  wonderful  country 
with  steam-power  beyond  comparison;  great  fur- 
naces under  ground,  fed  by  invisible  hands,  send  the 
steam  through  rocky  fissures  or  escape-pipes  to  the 
surface.  Near  Link  river,  two  of  these  escape-pipes 
emit  the  stifling  steam  constantly.  Approaching 
cautiously,  a  sight  may  be  had  of  the  boiling  waters 
beneath.  Lower  down  the  hill  it  arises  in  a  stream, 
sufficient  to  run  a  saw-mill,  coming  out  boiling  hot, 
and  flowing  away  in  rippling  current.  Along  the 
banks  of  this  stream  flowers  bloom  the  year  round, 
and  vegetation  is  ever  green  for  several  rods  from  the 
banks.  The  scene  from  the  ridge  on  the  north  that 
overlooks  Link  valley  is  one  of  rare  beauty. 

Standing  in  snow  two  feet  deep,  on  a  cold  morning 
in  December,  1869,  my  eyes  first  took  in  the  landscape. 
Surrounded  by  lofty  pines,  and,  looking  southward,  we 
caught  sight  of  the  Lost  river  county,  the  home  of  the 
Modocs,  bathed  in  sunshine,  clear,  cold  sunshine ;  the 
almost  boundless  tracts  of  sage-brush  land,  stretch- 
ing away  to  the  foot  of  the  Cascade  mountains  on  the 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


287 


right,  until  sage-brush  plain  was  lost  in  pihe-wood 
forest.  On  the  left  front  we  caught  sight  of  Tu-le 
lake,  lying  calmly  beneath  its  cryetal  covering  of 
glittering  ice;  and,  still  loft.  Lost-river  mountains,  and 
beside  them  the  stream  whose  water  drank  up  the 
blood  of  many  battles  in  times  past.  Following  its 
line  toward  its  source,  we  see  a  mountain  cleft  in 
twain  to  make  passage  for  the  waters  of  Clear  lake, 
after  they  have  tunnelled  Saddle  mountains  for  ten 
miles,  and  come  again  to  human  sight. 

We  had  been  so  entertained  with  the  splendor  of 
the  winter  scene,  that  we  had  overlooked  its  grandest 
feature,  until  our  fretful  horses,  which  had  caught 
sight  of  it  before  we  had,  became  restless  and  impa- 
tient to  bathe  their  icy  hoofs  in  the  beautiful  valley 
at  our  feet,  and  refused  longer  to  wait  for  us  to  paint 
on  our  memory  the  panorama. 

Dismounting,  we,  too,  caught  sight  of  one  of  nature's 
wonderful  freaks.  Down  below  us,  in  the  immense 
amphitheatre,  we  discovered  columns  of  steam  I'ising 
from  the  smooth  prairie  hill-side,  ascending  in  fan- 
tastic puffs,  and  mixing  with  the  atmosphere ;  some- 
times cut  off,  by  sudden  gusts  of  cold  winds,  into 
minute  clouds,  that  swing  out  and  lose  themselves  in 
strange  company  of  fiercer  breath  from  the  mountains 
covered  with  snow  and  ice. 

Look  again  to  the  right,  and  see  the  constant  steam 
vapor  that  comes  with  hot  breath  from  the  boiling 
spring,  where  it  runs  in  grandeur,  and  gradually 
warms  the  soil  and  shrubbery  that  surrounds  its  chan- 
nel. Following  the  curve  of  this  stream,  see  the 
clouds  of  steam  decrease  as  it  flows  out  on  the  plain, 
until,  at  last,  its  warm  breath  is  lost  to  sight  in  the 


288 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


Hill 


I! 


I"i  i 


hi^h  tule  grass  of  Lower  Klamath  lake.  Come  back 
along  the  line  and  see  the  fringe  of  grass  and  flowers 
that  exult  in  life,  despite  the  winter's  cold;  and  other 
of  nature's  children,  too,  are  standing  Avith  feet  in  the 
soft  banks,  and  inhaling  the  warm  breath.  See  the 
long  line  of  sleek  cattle  and  horses  that  have  driven 
away  the  mule,  deer  and  antlered  elk,  and  now  claim 
mastership  of  what  God  has  done  for  this  strange 
valley.  Even  dumb  brutes  enjoy  this  refuge  from  the 
cold  storms  of  the  plains;  thus  cheating  old  winter 
out  of  the  privilege  of  punishing  them. 

Yielding  to  the  importunity  of  our  restless  steed, 
we  remount,  and,  giving  rein,  are  carried  rapidly 
down  the  mountain  side,  at  a  pace  that  would  be 
dangerous  on  clumsy  eastejM  ponies,  until  reaching 
the  valley,  and  feeling  tbo  soft  turf  beneath  us,  we 
improve  the  invitation  to  warm  our  hands  at  this 
gentle  outlet  to  one  of  nature's  seething  caldrons. 

Gathering  a  bouquet  of  wild  flowers  from  this  fairy 
garden,  surrounded  by  snows  and  ice,  we  resume  our 
journey,  for  we  are  now  bound  for  the  home  of 
Captain  Jack. 


ir 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

MODOC    BLOOD    UNDER    A    FLAG    OF    TRUCE  —  SEED   SOWN 
TWENTY  YEARS  BEFORE   A   HARVEST. 


Since  wc  arc  now  en  route  to  the  Modoc  country, 
and  since  they  have  taken  a  phicc  in  modern  history 
as  a  warUkc  people,  and  have  enrolled  their  names  on 
the  record  of  stirring  events,  it  is  well  to  give  them 
something  more  than  a  passing  notice. 

In  so  doing,  I  shall  confine  my  remarks  to  such  facts 
as  hav :  come  under  my  own  observation,  and  also 
those  that  are  well  authenticated.  In  memory  of  the 
late  tragedy  m  the  "  Lava  Beds,"  in  which  I  so  nearly 
lost  my  life,  I  approach  this  subject  with  a  full  de- 
termination to  present  the  facts  connected  therewith 
in  a  fair  and  impartial  manner,  without  fear  of  criti- 
cism fi'om  the  enemies  of  the  red  man,  or  a  desire  to 
court  undue  favor  from  his  friends. 

The  Modocs  arc  a  branch  from  a  once  powerful 
tribe  of  the  Pacific  coast,  and  known  as  "  La-la-cas," 
inhabiting  the  country  drained  by  Klamath  river  and 
lakes,  also  including  the  "Lost-river  Basin,"  and 
extending  inland  from  the  coast  proper  about  three 
hundred  miles,  covering  the  territory  of  what  is  now 
Siskiyou  county,  Cal.,  and  parts  of  Jackson  and 
Josephine  counties,  of  Oregon.  They  were  warlike, 
as  most  uncivilized  nations  are,  when  they  become 
powerful.  Surrounded  with  peoples  of  similar  char- 
acter, they  were  often  on  the  "  warpath." 


290 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATn. 


I'  -iX 


'•■I 


i"i  i 


■   ti 


Tlic  history  of  the  great  battles  fought  by  the  La- 
la-cas  of  olden  time  is  a  fruitful  subjeet  for  Indian 
stories  by  the  deseendants  of  the  Klanuiths  and  Mo- 
does;  and  from  them,  years  ago,  I  learned  about  the 
rebellion  so  nearly  eotemporaneous  with  the  Ameriean 
Kcvolution. 

That  rebellion  sprang  from  causes  so  nearly  of  the 
same  kind  as  those  which  prompted  our  forefathers  to 
take  uj)  arms  against  Great  Britain,  that  the  coinci- 
dence is  strange  indeed,  though  it  could  not  have  any 
connection  with  the  white  man's  war.  To  those  who 
have  given  the  subjeet  of  Indian  history  a  careful 
study,  it  is  not  new,  that,  while  a  monarch  exercised 
arbitraiy  power  across  the  Atlantic,  and  dictated  gov- 
ernment and  law  to  the  American  colonies,  many 
petty  monarchs,  also  claiming  the  hereditary  right  to 
rule  on  the  strength  of  royalty  and  blood,  were  the 
governing  nations  on  the  continent  of  America.  This 
kind  of  royalty  seems  to  have  been  acknowledged 
and  disputed  by  turns,  for  many  generations;  and, 
perhaps,  the  La-la-cas  may  have  passed  through  as 
many  revolutions  as  enlightened  political  organiza- 
tions, though  no  other  history  than  tradition  has  made 
a  record  thereof  At  all  events  it  is  part  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  Modocs  and  Klamaths,  that  feuds  and  rev- 
olutions have  been  of  common  occurrence,  growing 
out  of  the  desire  for  power.  After  all,  human  nature 
is  pretty  much  the  same  in  all  conditions  of  society, 
without  regard  to  color  or  race. 

The  office  of  chief,  among  Indians  of  former  times, 
was  to  the  chieftain  what  the  crown  was  to  a  king. 
The  function  of  chieftain  among  semi-civilized  Indians 
of  to-day  is  to  him  what  the  office  of  President  is  to 


WIOWAM   AND   WAUPATII. 


291 


General  Grant,  or  it  may  be  likened  to  the  position  of 
Louis  Phili[)pc  a  lew  years  ago,  half  attained  throu<i;h 
royal  right,  and  half  by  force  or  consent  of  the  gov- 
erned. 

This  comparison  is  apropos  according  to  the  status 
of  traditional  and  hereditary  law. 

With  the  La-la-cas,  one  hundred  years  ago,  the  pre- 
rogative of  royalty,  though,  perhaps,  acknowledged 
in  the  abstract,  was  often  disputed  in  the  distribution 
of  honors. 

This  "  bono  of  contention,"  so  fruitful  of  blood  with 
civilized  nations,  was  one  of  the  principal  and  moving 
causes  of  the  separation  of  a  band  of  La-la-cas,  who 
are  now  known  as  Modocs,  from  the  tribe  who  are 
now  called  Klamaths. 

There  is  a  curious  resemblance  between  the  politi- 
cal customs  of  savage  and  civilized  nations.  The 
royal  house  from  whence  came  the  hero  of  the  Modoc 
war  —  Captain  Jack  —  was  not  exempt  from  the  con- 
tentions common  to  royal  households,  and  it  may  be 
said,  too,  that  while  the  branch  to  which  he  belonged 
had  furnished  their  quota  of  braves  for  many  wars, 
they  resisted  the  taxes  levied  on  them,  and  at  last 
openly  rebelled,  and  separated  from  their  ancient 
tribe  on  account  of  the  exactions  of  tyrannical  chiefs. 

That  my  readers  may  properly  understand  the  sub- 
ject now  under  consideration,  it  is  well  to  state,  in  a 
general  way,  that  Indian  nations,  singularly  enough, 
follow  in  the  footsteps  of  the  people  of  Bible  history. 
Whether  they  derive  the  custom  from  traditional  con- 
nection or  not,  I  leave  to  antiquarians  to  answer. 

Every  nation  is  divided  into  tribes,  and  tribes  are 
divided  into  bands,  and  bands  into  smaller  divisions, 


n. 


V' 


m 


292 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


life 


I    { 


Mi* 

Is 


I  ' 


f 


ii  I  > 


ii  !^ 


■  * 
ii 


I'    ■■'  ' 

if  ■ 

i;  li  ;  ■ 

4  ',: 


i| 


even  do^vn  to  families ;  each  nation  has,  or  is  supposed 
to  liave,  a  head,  chief;  each  tribe  a  chief;  each  band 
a  sub-chief;  and  so  on,  down,  until  you  reach  family 
relations. 

Each  tribe,  band,  and  even  family,  has  in  times  of 
peace  an  allotted  home,  or  district  of  country  that  they 
call  their  own.  They  claim  the  privileges  that  it 
aflbrds,  and  are  very  jealous  of  any  infringement  on 
their  rights. 

The  Modocs  inhabited  that  portion  of  country 
know,  as  ''Lost-river  Basin,''  —  perha})s  forty  miles 
square,  —  lying  east  of  the  loot  of  "  Shasta  Butte," 
possessing  many  natural  resources  for  Indian  life.  It 
is  doubtful  whether  any  other  country  of  like  extent 
affords  so  great  and  so  varied  a  supply  as  this 
district. 

Lost  river  is  a  great  fishing  country,  affording 
those  of  a  kind  peculiar  to  Tule  lake  and  Lost 
river,  in  so  great  abundance  as  to  be  almost  beyond 
belief. 

But  to  resume  the  liistory  of  this  band  of  Modocs. 
At  or  about  the  time  indicated  as  cotemj)oraneous 
with  "  the  great  event  *'  in  American  civilized  history, 
the  head  chief  of  all  the  La-la-cas  demanded  of 
Mo-a-doc-us,  the  chief  of  the  Lost-river  band  of  the 
La-la-cas,  not  only  braves  for  the  warpath,  but  also 
that  supplies  of  fish  from  Lost  river  should  be  fur- 
nished. 

This  demand  was  refused.  .7ollow'ing  the  refusal, 
war  wasdechrcd;  and  Mo-a-doc-us  issued  his  declar- 
ation of  independence,  throwing  off  his  allegiance 
from  and  to  the  head  chief  of  the  La-la-cas.  The 
war  that  followed  was  one  of  a  character  similar  m 


c.> 


X  V  T  \  I  N      .1  A  r  Iv  , 


Ml 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


295 


some  respects  to  the  American  Revolution;  the  one 
party  struggling  to  hold  power,  the  other  fight- 
ing for  freedom,  —  for  such  it  was  in  reality. 

The  Modocs  and  Klamaths  tell  cf  many  battles 
fought,  and  brave  men  killed ;  how  the  survivors 
passed  their  allotted  time  in  mourning;  how,  at  last, 
the  La-la-cas  were  defeated;  and  though  no  formal 
acknowledgment  or  recognition  of  the  independence 
of  Mc  -a-doc-us  was  ever  bulletined  to  the  world,  yet 
it  was,  in  modern  political  language,  "an  accom- 
plished fact " 

The  *  Hi  _s  of  the  La-la-cas  have  since  been 
termed  Klamaths. 

"'vN'^ithout  tracing  the  history  of  the  Mo-a-docs 
through  theii  many  wars,  I  pass  over  the  intervening 
feuds  until  184G,  at  which  time  they  numbered  six 
hundred  warriors,  and  were  subdivided  into  bands, 
governed  by  "  Schoncliin,"  a  head  chief,  although  his 
authority  seems  even  then  to  have  been  disputed,  on 
the  ground  that  he  was  not  a  legitimate  descendant 
of  the  great  Mo-a-doc~us,  and  consequently  not  of 
royal  blood.  He  "•  (  i^  his  position  as  chief  by  his 
great  personal  bra»      ,  Ia  battle. 

The  father  of  Cap  cj  mi  !  i  ck  was  the  former  chief  of 
tlie  lost-river  Modocs.  lid  was  killed  in  battle  with 
the  Warm  S^  in;;'  and  Te-ni-no  Indians,  near  the 
head-waters  of  tne  Des-chu<  -<  river,  in  Oregon,  at 
which  time  Ki-en-te-poos  (Captain  Jack)  wr-s  a  small 
boy. 

I  have  taken  S'^me  pains  to  ascertain  reliable  data 
as  to  the  parenta-iv'and  birthplace  of  a  man  whose 
name  has  been  on  >. .  ciy  tongue  for  the  past  year,  and 
state,  roost  positively,  that  Captain  Jack's  parents  were 


l> 


I.  *  li 


296 


WIGWASI   AND  WARPATH. 


both  Modocs  of  royal  blood,  and  that  Captain  Jack 
was  born  on  Lost  river,  near  the  "  Natural  Bridge," 
and  very  near  the  ground  on  which  was  fought  the  first 
battle  of  the  late  Modoc  war;  and,  further,  that  he 
never  lived  with  any  white  man;  that  he  never  has 
learned  to  speak  any  other  than  the  language  of  the 
ancient  La-la-cas,  or  Mo-a-docs,  although  he  may  have 
understood  many  words  of  the  English  tongue. 

You  will  have  observed  that  th  icgard  for  royal 
honors  was  not  extinct  at  the  time  'C  death  of 

Jack's  father,  who  seems  to  have  left  in  >  ue  hearts  of 
his  people  the  ambition  to  restore  the  ancient  order 
of  things,  by  re-establishing  the  hereditary  right  to 
the  chieftainship.  This  sentiment,  thus  perpetuated, 
undoubtedly  found  a  lodgment  in  the  heart  of  the 
bo}',  Kien-tc-poos. 

To  rcsmiio  the  review  of  the  first  war:  As  told  by 
white  men,  it  would  appear  that  a  wanton  thirst  for 
blood  impelled  the  Modocs  to  murder  defenceless  emi- 
grants. I  doubt  not  that  many  innocont  persons  lost 
their  lives;  still,  with  my  knowledge  of  Indian  charac- 
ter, I  am  not  ready  to  say  that  provocation  was  want- 
ing. While  I  would  be  careful  in  making  up  my 
estimate  on  the  validity  of  Indian  statements,  I  am 
still  willing  that  the  Modocs'  side  of  the  causes  of  the 
first  wars  should  be  heard. 

Old  Chief  Schonchin  says  that  it  grew  out  of  a 
misunderstanding  as  to  the  identity  of  the  Modocs, 
Snalces,  and  Pitt-river  Indians.  The  emigrants  had 
difficulties  with  the  Snake  Indians,  through  whose 
country  they  passed  in  reaching  Oregon  and  Cali- 
fornia; and  that  he  never  knew  what  was  the  cause 
of  the  first  troubles  between  them.     The  Snake  In- 


'I 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


297 


dians  capturerl  horses  and  mules  from  the  emigrants, 
and  sold  them,  or  gambled  them,  to  the  Pitt-river 
Indians,  who  in  turn  ti'ansferred  them,  through  the 
same  process,  to  the  Modocs;  and  that  the  animals 
found  by  emigrants  in  possession  of  the  Modocs  were 
recaptured,  and  hence  war  was  at  last  brought  about. 
The  btorj  seems  plausible,  and  is  certainly  entitled  to 
some  respect,  coming,  as  it  does,  from  a  man  of  the 
character  of  old  Chief  Schonchin.  I  know  there  is 
a  disposition  to  discredit  any  statement  made  by  an 
Indian,  simply  because  he  is  cm  Indian,  and  more 
particularly  when  it  comes  in  conflict  with  our  preju- 
dices to  accept  it  as  the  truth.  Some  white  men  are 
entitled  to  credit;  others  are  not.  So  it  is  with  In- 
dians, and,  if  it  were  possible,  the  disparity  is  even 
greater  among  them  than  among  white  men. 

Chief  Schonchin,  of  whom  I  am  speaking,  com- 
mands respect  from  those  who  know  him  best,  and 
have  known  him  longest.  He  does  not  deny  that  he 
was  in  the  early  Avars ;  that  he  did  all  in  his  power  to 
exterminate  his  enemies.  In  speaking  of  the  wars 
with  white  men,  he  once  remarked,  in  an  evening  talk 
around  a  camp-fire:  "I  thought,  if  we  killed  all  the 
white  men  we  saw,  that  no  more  would  come.  We 
killed  all  we  could;  but  they  came  more  and  more, 
like  new  grass  in  the  spring.  I  looked  around,  and 
saw  that  many  of  our  young  men  were  dead,  and 
could  not  come  back  to  fight.  My  heart  was  sick. 
My  people  were  few.  I  thrcAV  down  njy  gun.  I 
said,  I  will  not  fight  again.  I  made  friends  with  the 
white  man.  I  am  an  old  man;  I  cannot  fight  now. 
I  want  to  die  in  peace."  To  his  credit  be  it  said, 
that  no  act  of  his,   since  the  treaty  of  ISGl,   has 


t 


298 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


deserved  censure.  He  is  still  in  charge  of  the  loyal 
Modocs,  at  Yai-nax  station,  grieving  over  the  way-% 
wardness  of  his  brother  J  ohn  and  Captain  Jack. 

He  was  not  in  the  "  Ben  Wright  "  affair,  although 
he  was  near  when  the  massacre  occurred.  His  rea- 
son for  not  being  present  was  because  he  mistrusted 
that  treachery  was  intended  on  the  part  of  Wright; 
and,  fm  ther,  that  a  "  treaty  of  peace  "  was  proposed 
by  him,  which  was  to  be  accompanied  with  a  feast, 
given  by  the  white  man;  but  that  the  talk  was  "too 
good,"  —  ^^ promised  too  mucli^''  —  and  that,  suspicious 
of  the  whole  affair,  he  kept  away;  that  forty-six 
Modocs  accepted  the  invitation  to  feast  with  their 
white  brethren,  and  that  but  five  escaped  the  whole- 
sale butchery.  Of  these  five,  the  last  survivor  was 
murdered,  June,  1873,  vluring  the  cowardly  attack  on 
Fairchild's  wagon,  containing  the  Indian  captives, 
near  Lost  river,  after  the  surrender  of  Captain 
Jack. 

IS'ow,  whether  the  Indian  version  of  the  Ben 
Tv"i  ight  affair  is  correct,  or  not,  that  forty  Indians 
were  killed  while  under  a  flag  of  truce  in  the 
hands  of  white  men  of  the  Ben  Wright  party,  in 
1852,  —  there  can  he  no  doubt.  The  effects  of  this 
act  can  be  traced  all  the  way  down  from  that  day  to 
this,  and  have  had  much  to  do  with  making  the 
Modocs  a  revengeful  people. 

The  friends  of  Ben  Wright  deny  that  he  committed 
an  act  of  treachery;  yet  there  are  persons  in  Cal- 
ifornia who  state  positively  that  he  purchased  strych- 
nine previous  to  his  visit  to  the  Modoc  country^ 
with  the  avowed  intention  of  poisoning  the  Indians. 
Others,  who  were  with  him  at  the  time  of  the  mas- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


299 


sacre,  testify  that  he  made  the  attempt  at  poisoningy 
•and  finally,  abandoning  it,  he  resorted  to  the  "  peace 
talk"  to  accomplish  his  purpose.  The  excuse  for 
this  unwarrantable  act  of  treachery  was  to  punish  the 
Modocs  for  the  murdering  of  emigrants  at  Bloody 
Point,  a  few  days  previous. 

This  unparalleled  slaughter  was  perpetrated  on  the 
shore  of  Tu-le  lake,  in  September,  1852.  It  occurred 
directly  opposite  the  "  Lava  Bed,"  at  a  point  where 
the  emigrant  road  touches  the  shore  of  the  lake,  after 
crossing  a  desert  tract  of  several  miles,  and  where 
the  mountains  forced  the  road  to  leave  the  high 
plains  to  effect  a  passage.  For  several  hundred 
yards  the  route  ran  along  under  a  stony  bluff,  and 
near  the  waters  of  the  lake.  The  place  was  well- 
adapted  for  such  hellish  purposes. 

The  emigrant  train  consisted  of  sixty-five  men, 
women,  and  children,  and  the  whole  line  of  wagons 
was  driven  down  into  this  position  before  the  attack 
was  made.  The  Indians,  secreted  in  the  rocks  at  either 
end  of  the  narrow  passage,  attacked  their  hapless  vic- 
tims both  in  front  and  rear.  Hemmed  in  by  high 
rocky  bluffs  on  one  side  and  the  lake  on  the  other, 
they  were  butchered  indiscriminately.  !N'either  age 
nor  sex  were  spared,  save  two  young  girls  of  twelve 
and  fourteen  years  of  age  respectively,  who  were 
taken  prisoners,  and  one  man,  who  escaped. 

This  massacre  was  attended  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  savage  warfare.  Men  were  killed  outright 
and  scalped.  Women  were  treated  with  indignities 
that  words  may  iiot  reveal.  Even  fiendish  torture 
was  surpassed,  and  human  language  is  too  tam^  to 
express  the    horrible  outrages  committed    on    them. 


III 


300 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


'.  ; 


Children  were  tortured,  some  of  them  mutilated  and 
dismembered,  while  yet  alive,  before  the  eyes  of  their 
mothers.  No  page  in  all  the  bloody  history  of  Indian 
cruelties  exceeds  that  of  the  massacre  of  emigrants 
at  Bloody  Point,  by  the  Modocs,  in  September,  1852. 

The  two  girls  who  were  taken  prisoners  were 
allotted  to  some  of  the  brave  warriors  as  wives.  They 
survived  for  several  years,  and,  according  to  Modoc 
stories,  were  reconciled  to  their  fate,  adopting  the 
manners  and  customs  of  their  captors.  It  is  said  that 
they  taught  the  Modocs  many  things  pertaining  to  a 
civilized  life,  and  that  they  exercised  great  influence 
over  them;  that  the  Modoc  women  became  jealous 
of  their  power,  and  put  them  to  death. 

ISTear  the  residence  of  Mr.  Dorris,  on  Cottonwood 
Creek,  is  a  rocky  cliff  overlooking  the  valley.  It  was 
from  this  cliff  the  unfortunate  captives  were  thrown 
to  the  rocks  below,  ending  their  lives  as  victims  to 
the  jealousy  of  the  wives  and  mothers  of  their  savage 
captors.  Evidences  of  this  tragedy  are  in  existence; 
human  skulls,  and,  within  a  few  years,  locks  of  long 
hair,  unlike  that  of  Indians,  have  been  found  on  the 
spot  indicated  as  the  place  where  these  captives  were 
destroyed. 

Ben  Wright  was  a  citizen  of  Y-re-ka.  He  was 
esteemed  as  a  man  of  good  character  and  standing 
among  his  fellows  in  that  early  day.  Bom  a  leader, 
he  was  selected  by  the  miners  to  conunand  a  company 
of  volunteers,  who  were  enlisted  without  authority  of 
the  Government  of  the  United  States,  the  State  of 
California,  or  the  County  of  Sys-ki-you. 

This  company  was  formed,  under  the  common  law 
of  self-protection,  in  the  early  days  of  California,  when 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


301 


Indian  outrages  were  of  common  occurrence. 


In  th( 


I 


absence  of  regular  provision  for  protection,  the  miners 
and  settlers,  in  a  spirit  of  patriotism,  volunteered  to 
punish  Indians  as  w^ell  as  to  guard  the  peace  of  the 
country.  Be  it  remembered  that  the  massacre  at 
"  Bloody  Point "  was  not  the  only  act  of  savage 
ferocity  committed  by  the  Modocs.  For  five  years 
had  they  been  murdering  the  worn-out  emigrants  who 
were  en  route  to  California  and  Oregon. 

It  was  in  harmony  with  frontier  ideas  of  right,  to 
punish  these  people  for  their  crimes,  without  taking 
into  consideration  the  causes  that  may  have  impelled 
them  to  bloody  deeds.  The  victims  were  not  respon- 
sible for  the  ac:s  of  their  predecessors  on  the  line  of 
travellers.  However  humane  and  just  we  may  feel, 
we  cannot  object  to  Ben  "Wright's  motive,  though  all 
men  who  possess  correct  ideas  of  justice  may  depre- 
cate the  manner  of  avenging  the  wrongs  committed. 
Had  he  slain  the  entire  tribe  in  fair  battle,  no  just  con- 
demnation could  have  been  pronounced  against  him. 
Had  he  avenged  their  horrible  crimes  by  ambushing 
them,  by  his  skill  and  cunning,  no  man  would  have 
censured  him;  hut  to  violate  a  flag  of  truce,  under 
pretence  of  peace-mahing,  was  a  wrong  that  fair- 
minded  men,  everywhere,  condemn  as  an  outrage 
against  humanity  and  civilization. 

If  the  Modocs  had  first  been  guilty  of  such  acts  of 
treachery,  "extermination"  would  justly  have  been  the 
cry.  Savage  warfare  is  unworthy  of  any  people ;  but 
certainly  it  should  never  be  surpassed  by  those  pro- 
fessing Christian  civilization.  Even  in  war  they 
should  endeavor  to  teach  the  savage  the  higher  laws 
that  govern  mankind. 


. 


302 


WIGWAJI   AND  WARPATH. 


\l 


"Without  stopping  to  moralize  further,  let  us  pursue 
the  main  facts,  as  they  come  following  each  other  in 
succession.  After  the  Ben  Wright  massacre,  hos- 
tilities were  continued  until  18G4;  at  which  time  Elisha 
Steel,  Esq.,  of  Y-re-ka,  who  was  then  acting  super- 
intendent for  the  northern  district  of  California,  made 
an  informal  treaty  with  the  various  bands  of  Indians, 
and  who  seems  to  have  been  more  an  arbitrator  than  a 
government  commissioner.  At  all  events  the  articles 
of  agreement  were  not  ratified  by  Congress. 

This  treaty  did  not  set  forth  that  any  consideration 
would  be  paid  by  the  Government  for  the  possession  of 
the  Modoc  country.  N^either  did  it  seek  to  alienate  the 
country  from  the  Indians,  but  referred  to  the  locali- 
ties where  certain  bands  of  Modocs,  Schas-tas,  Schas- 
ta-sco-tons,  and  Klamaths  should  reside.  There  was 
also  an  agreement  to  keep  peace  with  each  other  and 
the  Avhites. 

It  was  in  this  council  that  Captain  Jack  was  first 
acknowledged  as  a  chief,  and  then  only  after  an  election 
was  had  by  the  band  that  had  repudiated  Schon-chin; 
after  w^hich  Steele  declared  him  a  chief,  and  named  him 
"Captain  Jack,"  on  account  of  his  resemblance  to 
a  miner  bearing  that  name.  That  the  Steele  treaty 
was  somewhat  indefinite  and  unauthorized,  was  given 
as  a  reason  why  it  never  was  recognized  by  the  gen- 
eral Government. 

There  may  have  been  other  and  more  potent  rea- 
sons, however;  for  the  Modoc  country  proper  is  about 
equally  divided  between  Oregon  and  California,  though 
the  home  of  Captain  Jack  and  Schon-chin  was  on  the 
Oregon  side  of  the  line.  At  that  time  the  hearts  of  our 
people  were  much  moved  in  behalf  of  the  "  poor  In- 


WIGWAM   AND   WAKPATH. 


303 


tl^an."  Each  State  was  anxious  to  furnish  a  home  for 
him.  Whether  Steele's  treaty  reached  "NVawhington 
before  or  after,  does  not  appear.  The  Superintendent 
of  Oregon  was  instructed  to  "negotiate  a  treaty  with 
all  the  Indians  in  the  Klamath  country,  including  the 
Modocs." 

This  council  met  in  October,  1801.  The  Klamaths, 
and  also  the  Modocs,  were  represented  in  the  council 
by  their  chiefs;  the  latter  by  Schon-chin  and  his 
brother  John,  who  was  afterwards  ar  jociated  with 
Captain  Jack. 

Captain  Jack  was  recognized  as  a  sub-chief  lie 
participated  in  the  council;  and,  when  terms  were 
agreed  upon,  he  signed  the  articles  of  treaty  in  his 
Indian  name,  —  Ki-  m-te-poos.  The  idea  that  ho  was 
deceived  in  the  meaning  of  the  treaty  is  absurd; 
though  it  has  been  repeated  by  good  men,  without 
proper  Imowledge  of  the  facts. 

An  unwarrantable  sympathy  for  Captain  Jack  has 
been  the  I'csult,  —  unless,  indeed,  all  the  Indians  who 
were  parties  to  the  treaty  are  to  be  commiserated  for 
having  sold  their  birthright  for  an  insufficient  com- 
pensation. Old  chief  Schon-chin  has  never  claimed 
any  other  than  the  plain  meaning  of  the  words  of  the 
treaty;  which  was,  substantially,  that  what  is  kno^vn 
as  Klamath  Reservation  was  to  be  the  joint  home  of 
the  Klamaths  and  Modocs.  All  the  other  country 
claimed  by  the  two  tribes  was  ceded  to  the  United 
States,  on  condition  that  certain  acts  should  be  per- 
formed by  the  Government,  in  a  specified  time.  All 
of  which  has  been,  and  is  being  done,  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  Indians  who  have  remained  on  the  Reserva- 
tion. I  assert  this  to  be  substantially  correct.  That  they 


n 


I 


304 


WIGWAM   AND   WAnPATH. 


matlc  a  bargain  that  Captain  Jack  wished  to  repudi- 
ate is  true.  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  should  do  so,  in 
view  of  liis  inlierent  love  of  royalty  and  his  great 
ambition  to  be  a  chief,  and  the  imcertainty  of  his 
tenui'e  of  ollice  should  he  remain  on  the  lieservation, 
the  discipline  of  which  was  humiliating  for  one  whose 
life  had  been  free  from  restraint. 

The  head  men  of  the  Klamaths  all  agree  and  state 
positively  that  the  treaty  was  fully  interpreted  and 
fairly  understood  by  all  parties,  and  that  Captain  Jack 
and  the  whole  Modoc  tribe  shared  in  the  issue  of 
goods  made  at  the  council-ground  by  Superintendent 
Huntington,  at  the  time  of  making  the  treaty.  The 
plea  that  Captain  Jack  was  deceived,  as  before-men- 
tioned, is  wholly  unfounded.  He  not  only  understood 
and  assented  to  it,  but  took  up  his  abode  on  the 
Klamath  Reservation,  where  he  remained  long  enough 
to  realize  that  Keservation  life  was  not  healthy  for 
royalty. 

Perhaps  he  had  begun  to  see  that  he  was  to  change 
his  mode  of  life;  also  that  Schon-chin  was  recognized 
as  his  superior  in  office;  and  it  may  be  that  he  dis- 
covei'fcd  that  Klamath  was  not  as  good  a  country  for 
Indian  life  as  the  Lost-river  region.  It  is  equally 
certain  that  he  raised  the  standard  of  revolt,  and 
finally  Avithdrew  from  the  Reservation,  and  took  up 
his  abode  at  his  old  home  on  Lost  river;  soon  after 
which  he  stated  to  Mr.  John  A.  Fairchilds  that  he 
had  been  cheated,  and  that  "  the  treaty  was  a  lie ; " 
that  he  had  not  sold  his  country. 

He  made  the  same  statement  to  Esquire  Steele,  of 
Y-re-ka,  who  is  a  man  of  a  large  and  charitable  heart, 
and  who  exercised  great  power  over  the  Indians,  and, 


WIGWAM    AND  WARPATH. 


305 


lele,  of 
I  heart, 
and, 


with  his  former  knovvle(l«]fe  of  Captain  Jaek,  ac- 
credited his  story  concerning  th(!  (swindle  or  cheat, 
and  probal)ly  stated  to  Captain  Jack  that  he  would 
try  to  have  the  matter  adjusted  for  him. 

Steele  wi'ote  several  letters  to  the  department  at 
Washington  on  this  subject,  and  also  gave  letters  to 
Jack  and  his  people,  rei)eating  therein  Jack's  story 
about  his  being  cheated,  and  commending  him  to  the 
fi'iendly  consideration  of  white  people  with  whom  he 
might  come  in  contact. 

Some  of  these  letters  arc  still  in  existence.  I 
myself  have  read  several  of  them,  the  tenor  of  which 
was  in  kcei)ing  with  the  statement  already  mtide,  — 
that  Jack  still  claimed  the  country,  and  that  he  was  a 
well-disposed  Indian,  etc.;  but  there  was  not  oiif  line, 
so  far  as  I  know,  that  could  be  construed  to  moan 
that  the  treaty  could  or  should  he  repudiated. 

That  Steele  had  friendship  for  Jack,  there  can  be 
no  doubt;  and  that  Jack  recognized  Steele  as  his 
friend  and  adviser  is  equally  certain;  and  whatever 
influence  Steele's  advice  may  have  had,  it  never  was 
intended  to  justify  Jack  in  removing  from  the  Reser- 
vation to  which  he  belonged.  I  have  been  thus 
particular  in  this  matter,  because  Jack  has  used  the 
name  of  Steele  in  a  way  to  mislead  public  opinion  in 
regard  to  Steele's  connection  with  the  Modoc  rebellion. 
Jack's  reason  for  leaving  the  Reservation  in  18G4  was, 
simply  and  substantially,  that  he  had  made  a  compact 
with  which  he  was  dissatisfied.  He  not  only  miscon- 
strued the  friendship  of  Steele  and  others,  but  mis- 
represented them  in  such  a  way  as  to  rid  himself  of 
the  responsibility  as  much  as  possible. 

Following  his  career,  we  find  that,  in  1865,  at  the 


i 


'^ 


306 


WIGWAJI   AND  WARPATH. 


request  of  the  citizens  of  Lost-river  Basin,  Capt. 
McGreggor,  commander  of  Fort  Klamath,  made  an 
unsuccessful  attempt  to  return  Jack's  band  to  the 
Reservation;  and,  also,  that  sub-agent  Lindsay  Apple- 
gate  sought  to  remove  him  in  18G6;  also,  that  in 
1867  Superintendent  Huntington  visited  the  "  Modoc 
country,"  and  that  Capt.  Jack  and  his  warri^  "s  took 
a  position  on  the  opposite  side  of  Lost  river,  and  said 
to  him  that,  if  he  attempted  to  cross  over,  he  "  would 
fire  on  him."  Huntington,  being  unsupported,  made 
no  attempt  at  crossing.  He  reported  the  matter,  as 
others  had  done,  to  the  department  at  Washington ; 
but  no  action  was  ordered.  It  will  be  seen  that  this 
same  rebel  chief  had  eluded  and  defied  the  authority 
of  the  Government  on  these  three  successive  occasions; 
and  yet  the  clemency  and  forbearance  of  the  Govern- 
ment were  misconstrued  by  him  and  his  misinformed 
sympathizers. 

In  the  latter  part  of  18C9,  while  on  an  official  visit 
to  Klamath  A^jncy,  the  Modocs  first  engaged  my 
attention;  and  hearing  then  the  fact  above  referred 
to,  as  a  reason  why  he  had  refused  to  obey  the  com- 
mands of  the  government,  and  believing  that  his  return, 
without  military  force,  was  possible,  a  consultation 
with  Agent  O.  C.  Knapp  was  held.  We  decided  to 
make  another  effort;  accordingly  a  courier  was 
despatched  with  a  message  that  we  would  meet  him 
at  Link  river.  The  reply  was  to  the  effect  that  if  we 
wanted  to  see  him  we  must  come  to  his  country;  and, 
further,  that  he  did  not  2are  to  see  us. 

Notwithstanding  this  nsul<,  mq  decided  to  visit  the 
Modoc  country  in  person.  Believing  in  the  power  of 
the  right  to  nccoraplish  the  purpose,  even  if  force  was 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


307 


Capt. 
ide  an 
to  the 
tVpple- 
hat  in 
Modoc 
•s  took 
nd  said 
^  would 
1,  made 
itter,  as 
lington; 
tiat  this 
iithority 
casions ; 
Grovern- 
nfonned 

cial  visit 
cred  my 

eferred 
he  com- 
s  return, 
sultation 
cided  to 

ier  was 
leet  him 
lat  if  we 

ry;  and, 

visit  the 
)ovver  of 
brce  was 


necessary,  we  determined  to  go,  "  bearing  the  oHve 
branch ;  "  and,  also,  at  the  same  time,  I'ecognized  the 
necessity  of  being  prepared  for  personal  defence 
should  any  attack  be  made.  A  requisition  was  made 
on  Capt.  Goodale,  commander  at  Fort  Klamath,  for  a 
detachment  of  troops. 

To  the  first  request  we  received  a  doubtful  answer, 
because  "  he  had  not  the  men  to  spare."  I  did  not 
inquire  of  Capt.  Goodale  what  the  duties  of  the 
soldiers  were;  but  from  others  I  learned  that  they 
were  required  for  "  police  duty,"  or  sentry  duty,  which 
meant,  probably,  that  one-half  the  soldiers  were 
needed  to  guard  the  other  half,  and  maybe  were  to 
wait  on  the  officers  of  the  fort.  A  few  days  previous, 
a  number  of  enlisted  men  had  deserted,  and  those 
sent  in  pursuit  "had  failed  to  put  in  an  appearance  at 
roll-call." 

Finally,  the  Klamath  Indians  succeeded  in  arresting 
the  deserters  and  bringing  them  under  guard  to  the 
fort,  receiving  therefor  a  reward  for  so  doing.  This 
fort  was  built,  and  has  been  kept  up  at  an  enoraious 
expense,  to  secure  the  peace  of  the  country.  It  has 
been  an  advantage  to  both  white  men  and  Indians,  — 
the  one  finding  a  market  for  hay  and  grain ;  the  other, 
a  market  for  the  articles  manufactured  by  their 
women,  —  moccasins,  etc. ;  and  the  men  an  oppor- 
tunity to  make  greenbacks  by  hunting  and  arresting 
deserters. 

Capt.  Goodale  finally  detailed  a  small  squad  of 
men,  under  command  of  a  non-commissioned  officer, 
for  the  purpose  requested,  as  stated  heretofore. 

We  left  Klamath  Agency  on  the  mornijjg  of  the 
third  of  December,  1869,  destined  for  the  home  of 


308 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


mi 


the  Modocs,  accompanied  by  Agent  O.  C.  Knapp,  of 
Klamath,  I.  D.  Applegate  in  charge  of  Yai-nax, 
and  W.  C.  McKay,  together  with  teamsters,  guides, 
and  interpreters;  also,  two  Klamath  Indian  women. 
Ordering  the  soldiers  to  follow  us  as  far  as  Link 
river,  there  to  await  further  orders,  we  pushed  on, 
leaving  the  teams  with  our  supplies  to  follow  into  the 
Modoc  country  on  the  morning  of  the  twenty-second 
of  December,  18G0. 

The  route  from  Link  river  is  through  a  sage-brush 
plain,  and  following  down  the  west  bank  of  Lost  river. 

Lost  river  is  the  outlet  or  connecting  link  between 
Oear  lake  and  Tule  lake.  After  leaving  the  for- 
mer, it  flows  under  ground  several  miles,  and  again 
coming  to  the  surface,  empties  into  the  latter.  For 
this  reason  it  was  named  "  Lost  river."  It  is  a  deep, 
narrow  stream,  with  but  few  fcrding-places.  In  March 
of  each  year  it  is  a  great  fishery,  ^one  of  the  same 
species  of  fish  are  found  elsewhere;  it  possesses  the 
appearance  of  a  species  of  white  trout,  excepting  the 
head  and  mouth,  which  is  after  tiio  sucker  species. 
The  flesh  is  rich  and  nutritious,  and  so  abundant  are 
they  that  the}'  are  taken  with  rude  implements,  such 
as  sharpened  sticks  and  pitchforks,  and  are  even 
caught  with  the  hand,  when  they  are  running  over 
the  ripples  or  fords. 

A  courier  sent  by  the  Modoc  Peace  Commission, 
with  despatches  to  Yai-nax,  having  occasion  to  cross 
Lost  river  while  en  r  )ute,  reported,  on  his  return, 
having  difficulty  in  crossing  this  stream  on  account 
of  the  immense  numbers  of  fish  running  against  the 
horse's  legs,  and  frightening  him.  A  pretty  big  fish 
story,  but  not  incredible. 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


309 


"When  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Modoc  camp, 
we  espied  fom*  Indians  coming  on  ponies.  As  we 
approached,  they,  forming  a  line  across  the  road, 
exclaimed  "  Kaw-tiikl  "  (Stop!)  They  were  each 
armed  with  a  rifle  and  revolver.  Our  party  carried, 
each  man,  a  Henry  rifle  and  a  navy  six-shooter.  A 
short  pai'ley  ensued,  they  determining  to  know  our 
business,  and  would  allow  no  farther  advance  until 
their  demand  was  recognized. 

We  stated,  in  substance,  that  we  were  anxious  to 
sec  Captain  Jack  and  his  people  on  important  business. 

The  Indians  replied,  "  that  they  did  not  wish  to 
talk  with  us;  they  had  no  business  with  us,  and  that 
we  had  better  turn  back."  Three  times  had  they  de- 
fied, intimidated,  or  eluded  oflicers  of  the  Government 
previously,  and  were  now  trying  to  evade  a  meeting 
by  blufBng  our  party. 

We  had  started  to  visit  these  people,  and,  in  west- 
ern parlance,  "we  v^ere  going."  Pushing  past  the 
Indians,  we  started  on  a  brisk  gallop,  they  turning 
around  and  running  ahead  of  us.  After  a  brisk  ride 
of  four  miles  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Modoc  town, 
situated  on  the  western  bank  of  the  river  about  one 
mile  above  the  "  N^atural  Bridge,"  and  within  sight 
of  the  newly-made  mounds  of  the  State  line. 

The  "  Natural  Bridge  "  is  a  ledge  of  rocks,  twenty 
feet  in  width,  spanning  the  river.  It  was  used  in 
early  days  of  emigration,  to  cross  the  river.  At  the 
time  of  our  visit  it  was  two  feet  under  water,  but  on 
either  bank,  approaching  the  bridge,  were  unmistak- 
able evidences  of  wagon  travel.  On  the  western 
side  the  old  road  leads  out  through  the  sage-brush 
plains,  and  may  be  easily  traced  with  the  eye  for  sev- 


)I8'il< 


i 


11:1 


I 


310 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


eral  miles.  This  "  Natural  Bridge  "  has  been  gradu- 
ally smldng.  The  early  emigrants  crossed  over  it 
when  it  was  a  few  feet  above  the  water;  then,  at  a 
later  date,  the  water  had  risen  one  or  two  feet  above 
it;  and  yet  neither  the  river  nor  the  lake  appear  to  be 
higher  than  they  were  when  first  visited  by  white 
men. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


BLUE  EYES  AND  BLACK  ONES,  WHICH  WIN? -TOBEY RIDDLE. 


The  Modoc  town  was  composed  of  thirteen  lodges, 
built  after  the  model  of  Klamath's  Indian  houses.  A 
circular,  oblong  excavation,  twenty  or  thirty  feet  in 
length  and  twelve  wide,  is  first  made.  Then  posts, 
two  feet  apart,  are  set  in  the  centre  and  at  each  end. 
On  these  posts  are  placed  timbers  running  lengthwise 
of  the  structure.  Poles,  or  split  logs,  fifteen  feet  in 
length,  are  placed,  with  the  lower  end  resting  on  the 
ground,  while  the  upper  end  is  fastened  to  the  tops 
of  the  posts.  Matting,  made  of  "tule  grass,"  is 
spread  over  the  slanting  timbers,  and  then  the  earth 
thrown  out,  in  making  the  excavation,  is  piled  upon 
the  matting  tc  a  depth  of  twelve  inches,  ^o  win- 
dows are  made,  and  there  is  but  one  entrance  which 
openo  between  the  timbers  mentioned  as  resting  on 
posts  at  the  top  of  the  lodge.  This  long,  narrow 
opening  is  apf  oached  from  the  outside  by  steps  made 
in  the  earthen  covering.  From  the  inside  hangs  a 
ladder  made  of  rawhide  ropes.  The  windows,  door, 
and  chimneys  are  one  and  the  same.  The  first  glance 
at  these  houses  suggests  war,  and  a  second  confirms 
the  idea  that  these  people  are  always  ready  for  an 
attack. 

On  our  arrival  at  the  town  it  appeared  to  be  de- 
serted, excepting  the  few  Indians  who  returned  with 
us.    They  having  dismounted,  one  of  them  rushed  up 


^'1 
n 


312 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


the  rude  stairway  outside  the  largest  lodge,  and  dis- 
appeared. This  was  the  home  of  the  "  Chief."  Our 
party  dismounted  and  prepared  to  follow  our  guide. 
A  watchman  on  the  house-top  said,  "  One  man 
come !  no  more !  "  I  had  partly  ascended  the  steps 
when  the  peremptory  order  came.  It  sounded  omi- 
nous, and  recalled  "  Bloody  Point,"  and  "  Ben 
Wright."  It  was  too  late  to  turn  back  in  the  pres- 
ence of  savages. 

When  I  reached  the  door,  at  the  top  of  the  lodge, 
a.id  through  the  opening  met  the  eyes  of  fifty  painted 
warriors,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  in  the  wrong  place;  but  I 
dare  not  then  show  any  signs  of  fear,  or  retrace  my 
steps.  I  may  not  find  words  to  express  my  thoughts 
and  feelings  as  I  descended  the  rawhide  ladder,  half 
expecting  a  shower  of  arrows,  or  bullets ;  half- wonder- 
ing how  they  would  feel.  /  did  not  Tcnow  then,  —  / 
have  learned  since.  On  descending,  I  was  met  with  a 
cold  reception,  that  froze  my  blood;  a  feeling  I  cannot 
describe.  Captain  Jack  looked  in  my  face  with  a 
sullen  glitter  in  his  eye,  that  no  white  man  could  im- 
itate. He  refused  to  shake  hands,  to  speak,  or  smoke, 
and  in  fact  it  was  evident  that  I  was  not  only  an  un- 
welcome visitor,  but  was  looked  upon  as  an  enemy. 

Coolly  lighting  my  pipe,  I  began  trying  to  make 
the  best  of  a  bad  job;  meanwhile  enduring  the  stare 
from  all  eyes, — and  a  stare  of  that  kind  that  none  can 
understand  who  has  never  felt  the  same ;  an  expression 
cold  and  scornful,  but  burning  with  hatred,  was  on 
on  every  countenance.  I  have  beheld  but  one  other 
scene  that  was  more  indescribable,  and  that  was  the 
"Lava  Bed"  tragedy  on  April  11th,  1873.  A  terrible 
kind  of  loneliness  came  over  me,  and  for  a  while  I 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


313 


thought  the  chances  about  even  whether  I  would  get 
out  again  or  not. 

Finally  "Scarfaced  Charley"  broke  the  stillness 
by  asking,  "What  you  want?  What  for  you  come? 
Jack  he  not  send  for  you  I  He  got  no  business  with 
you !  He  no  don't  want  to  talk !  He  in  his  country ! 
What  for  you  come  here?  You  not  him  ty-ee!  He 
don't  know  you  I  Hal-lu-i-me-til-li-cum,  —  (you  stran- 
ger) !  Captain  Jack  want  to  see  you,  him  come  your 
home !  He  no  want  you  come  here !  You  go  away ! 
Let   him   'lonel     He  no  want   talk  you  I     You  go 


away 


f" 


This  is  substantially  the  first  Modoc  speech  I  ever 
heard.  The  result,  however,  was  to  break  the  ice,  to 
open  the  way  for  conversation.  I  stated  then  that  I 
was  a  new  chief,  sent  by  the  President,  to  care  for  all 
the  Indians,  Modocs  included,  and  that  I  was  their 
ty-ee.  I  had  some  new  things  to  talk  about.  Whether 
they  were  my  friends  or  not,  1  was  their  friend.  I 
had  come  to  see  my  boys,  and  I  wanted  a  hearing.  I 
was  not  afraid  to  talk,  not  afraid  to  hear  Captain  Jack 
talk ;  I  was  a  big  chief,  and  did  not  ask  my  own  boys 
when  to  talk."  When  I  had  ended  my  first  speech 
to  the  Modocs,  Captain  Jack  replied:  — 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  that  you  would  like  to  hear. 
All  your  people  are  liars  and  swindlers.  I  do  not 
believe  half  that  is  told  me.  T  am  not  afraid  to  hear 
you  talk."  I  then  proposed  to  have  my  frientls,  who 
were  waiting  outside,  come  in.  This  wai^  agreed  to, 
and  Captain  Jack  produced  a  parcel  of  papers,  that 
had  been  given  to  him  by  various  persons,  including 
letters  from  "Steele,"  also  from  Esq.  Potter,  and 
John  Fairchild.     These  were  submitted  to  me,  and 


314 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


treated  with  consideration,  thereby  securing  a  certain 
kind  of  respectful  hearing,  on  the  part  of  Captain 
Jack,  to  the  proposition  for  him  to  provide  a  camp 
for  our  company. 

Having  thus  started  negotiations.  Jack  proffered 
the  use  of  his  lodge,  saying  that  he  had  no  muck-a- 
muck (meaning  provision)  that  we  could  eat;  that  his 
stores  afforded  only  roots  and  dried  fish,  that  he  had 
no  flour,  no  coffee,  no  sugar,  no  wliiskey,  and  did  not 
think  a  white  chief  could  get  along  without  these 
things,  etc.  He,  however,  ordered  a  camp  prepared 
for  us,  which  was  done  by  making  small  holes  in  the 
ground,  two  or  three  feet  apart,  with  "  camas  sticks," 
— a  sharp-pointed  instrument,  of  either  iron,  bone,  or 
hard  wood,  and  about  three  feet  long,  with  a  handle 
at  the  upper  end,  generally  in  the  shape  of  a  cross,  and 
is  used  very  much  as  a  gardener  does  a  spade,  by  In- 
dian women  in  digging  roots.  Into  these  holes  were 
inserted  willows,  eight  feet  in  length,  forming  a  circle 
twenty  feet  in  diameter,  lapping  past  at  one  point, — 
thus  making  an  entrance,  very  much  like  the  opening 
of  a  circus  pavilion,  —  the  whole  surrounded  with 
mattings,  the  upper  part  drawn  in,  thus  contracting 
the  yielding  tops  of  the  willow  poles  until  the  camp  was 
made  to  resemble  a  huge  bowl,  with  bottom  out,  in  an 
inverted  position.  This  kind  of  work  is  usually  done 
by  Indian  women;  but,  to  the  credit  of  the  young 
men  of  the  Modoc  tribe  be  it  said,  that  they,  in  this 
instance  at  least,  assisted  them,  and  did  not  allow 
their  women  to  be  mere  help-meets,  but  principals  in 
mechanical  enterprises  of  the  kind  named,  including 
also  "  getting  wood."  Sage  brush  is  the  principal  fuel 
in  this  region  of  country;  and  since  so  much  of  the 


WIQMAM  AND  WARPATH. 


815 


Great  Basin  lying  between  the  Rocky  mountains  on 
the  east,  and  Sierra  Nevada  and  Cascade  mountains 
on  the  west,  is  covered  with  this  kind  of  growth,  and 
since  comparatively  few  of  my  readers  may  have  ever 
seen  it  for  themselves,  I  may  remark  hei'c,  by  way  of 
explanation,  that  this  "sage  brush"  is  a  soft,  flexible 
shrub,  the  woody  part  being  porous,  and  filled  with  a 
gummy  substance ;  the  bark  is  of  a  grayish  color,  soft 
and  ragged,  and  easily  stripped  off;  the  leaf  is  small, 
of  such  a  color,  shape  and  taste  as  very  much  resem- 
bles the  domestic  plant,  from  which  it  takes  its  name; 
the  body  is  short,  crooked  and  forked,  seldom  exceeds 
four  inches  in  diameter  or  four  feet  in  height;  bums 
readily,  either  green  or  dry,  making  a  very  hot  fire, 
though  of  short  life,  yielding  abundant  ashes  and 
beds  of  coals. 

A  plentiful  supply  of  this  fuel  \/a8  piled  up  around 
our  camp.  A  fresh  fish  was  taken  from  the  river  by 
the  Indians,  which,  when  roasted  in  the  sage-brush 
embers,  made  a  not  unpalatable  meal.  We  spread 
our  saddle-blankets  down  for  bedding,  placed  one  of 
the  party  "  on  guard,"  while  the  remainder  slept,  or 
went  through  the  motion  of  sleeping;  for  we  would  not 
have  cared  for  the  Indians  to  know  that  we  could  not 
and  dare  not  sleep.  The  morrow  came,  and  the  wagons 
having  brought  our  supplies,  we  were  prepared  to 
offer  a  feast  of  coffee  and  sugar,  hard-bread,  beef,  and 
bacon. 

A^  Modoc  would  eat  until  our  party  had  partaken. 
Some  folks  may  think  their  good-breeding  had  taught 
them  to  defer  to  their  superiors ;  but  such  was  not  the 
case.  The  reason  was  expressed  in  these  few  words : 
"  Eemember  Ben  Wright ; "  which  was  said  in  the 


310 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


Modoc  language,  thus  explaining  why  they  did  not 
partake.  When,  however,  they  had  witnessed  that 
the  provisions  prepared  for  the  feast  were  eaten  by 
our  party,  they  were  reassured,  and  another  point  was 
gained. 

N^othing  so  quickly  dissolves  the  ice  in  an  Indian 
breast  as  a  feast.  The  council  was  opened  with 
Frank  Riddle  and  his  Modoc  woman,  Tobcy,  as 
intepreter.  I  mention  this  fact,  because  they  have 
become  prominent  characters  in  the  history  of  the  late 
Modoc  war.  They  had  been  sent  for  by  Cap^^ain  Jack ; 
in  fact,  he  was  not  willing  to  proceed  without  them. 

Frank  Riddle  is  a  white  man,  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  a  native  of  Kentucky.  He  anticipated  Greeley, 
going  West  when  a  very  young  man,  and  engaged  in 
mining  at  Y-re-ka,  Cal.  Twelve  years  ago,  on  a  bright 
morning  in  March,  an  old  Indian  rode  up  to  Frank's 
cabin,  and  stopped  before  the  door.  On  a  small 
pony  behind  the  old  man  sat  a  young  Indian  girl,  of 
Modoc  blood,  twelve  years  of  age. 

The  man  was  of  royal  lineage,  being  a  descendant 
of  Mo-a-doc-us,  founder  of  the  tribe,  and  was  uncle 
of  the  now  famous  Captain  Jack.  After  sitting  in 
silence,  Indian  fashion,  staring  in  the  cabin  door  for 
a  few  minutes,  he  made  a  motion  by  a  toss  of  his 
head,  and  pouted  out  his  lips  toward  the  young 
squaw  behind  him.  This  pantomime  said  to  Frank, 
"Do  you  want  to  buy  a  squaw?" 

Frank  was  a  line-looking,  dark-eyed  young  fellow, 
and  withal  a  clever  man,  of  genial  disposition,  with 
native  pride  of  ancestry,  still  holding  to  the  memory 
of  his  home,  and  the  image  of  a  fair-haired  girl  who 
had  "  swung  school-baskets  "  with  him  in  the  beach 


m 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


819 


woods  of  Shelby  county,  Kentucky.  lie  shook  his 
head.  Tlie  old  man's  face  indicated  his  disui)noint- 
nient.  The  girl  on  the  pony  slowly  turned  away,  fol- 
lowed by  her  father. 

Four  days  passed,  and  thin  Indian  girl  and  her 
father  again  appeared  at  Frank's  cabin.  In  sign 
languugt3  she  made  known  her  wish  to  be  his  slave, 
and  that  he  would  buy  her  from  her  father.  The 
young  Kentuckian,  chivalrous  as  his  people  always 
are,  treated  her  kindly;  but,  remembering  his  fair- 
haired  girl,  refused  to  instal  this  Indian  maiden  as 
mistress  of  his  home.  Ten  days  passed ;  the  dark- 
eyed  girl  came  again,  alone,  bringing  with  her  a 
wardrobe,  consisting  of  such  articles  as  Indian  women 
manufacture,  —  sashes  and  baskets,  shells,  beads,  and 
little  trinkets. 

She  was  attired  witii  woman's  taste,  conforming  to 
tho  fashions  of  her  people.  Her  dark  eyes,  with  long 
lashes,  smooth,  round,  soft  face,  of  more  than  usual 
pretensions  to  beauty,  lithe  figure,  and  dainty  feet  in 
moccasins,  all  combined  to  give  a  romantic  air  to  the 
jaunty  young  maiden;  and,  when  animated  with  the 
promptings  of  love  for  the  young  Kentuckiaxi,  made 
her  an  eloquent  advocate  in  her  own  behalf.  The 
chivalrous  fellow  hesitated.  He  pitied.  He  trembled 
on  the  brink.  The  dark  eyes  before  him  pleaded. 
The  blue  eyes,  far  away,  dissolved  reproachingly 
from  view.  The  hopes  of  youth,  and  the  air-castles 
that  two  loving  hearts  had  built  in  years  agone, 
began  to  vanish.  They  disappeared,  and  —  and  in 
their  stead  a  rude  cabin  in  romantic  wilds,  with  a 
warm-hearted,  loving,  dasky-faced  companion,  be- 
came a  living,  actual  reality. 


320 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


»i  I' 


The  day  following,  the  father  of  this  Indian  woman 
was  richer  by  two  horses.  The  cabin  of  Frank 
Riddle  put  on  a  brighter  air.  The  mistress  assumed 
charge  of  the  camp-kettle  and  the  frying-pan.  The 
tin  plates  were  cast  aside,  and  dishes  of  finer  mould 
mounted  the  tables  at  the  command  of  a  pair  of 
brovvu  hands. 

Riddle,  having  broken  his  vows,  and  forsaken  his 
boyhood  idol,  set  to  work  now  to  make  the  untamed 
girl  worthy  to  fill  the  place  in  his  heart  from  which 
she  had  driven  another.  She  was  apt  at  learning, 
and  soon  only  the  semblance  of  a  squaw  remained  in 
the  dusky  cheeks  and  brown  hands.  S«^ven  years 
pass,  and  Frank  Riddle  and  his  woman  Tobey  appear 
in  the  ^lodoc  council  on  Lost  river,  December,  1869. 

We  made  the  opening  speech  in  that  council,  set- 
ting forth  the  reasons  for  our  visit  and  producing  the 
treaty  of  1804:.  Here  Captain  Jack  began  to  mani- 
fest the  same  kind  of  disposition  that  has  been  so 
prominent  in  his  subsequent  intercourse  with  govern- 
ment officials,  —  a  careful,  cautious  kind  of  diplomacy, 
that  does  not  come  to  a  point,  but  continually  seeks 
to  shirk  responsibility. 

He  deni'id  that  he  was  a  party  to  the  treaty  of 
October,  1801:,  or  that  he  signed  the  paper.  Doctor 
McKay,  old  Chief  iSchonchin,  and  sub-Chief  Bio  of 
Klamath  were  brought  forward,  and  his  allegations 
disproved  completely;  we  fully  and. clearly  establibli- 
ing  the  fact  that  he  was  preejnt  at  that  treaty  council, 
and  that  he  put  his  hand  to  the  pen,  when  JnH  marh 
was  made;  that  he  accepted  and  shared  with  the 
other  Indians  the  goods  issuod  by  Superintendent 
Hur.tington    in   confirmation  of   the    treaty.      The 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


321 


fy  of 

doctor 
Jloof 
itions 

IbliBl'- 
Kincil, 

,7. 


amount  of  goods  issued  I  cannot  state;  but  I  find 
that  Huntington  had  an  appropriation  of  $20,000,  to 
meet  tne  expenses  of  said  treaty  council,  and,  I  doubt 
not,  issued  $5,000  or  $10,000  worth  of  goods.  All 
agree  that  it  was  a  liberal  supply  of  goods,  and  I 
believe  it  to  be  true. 

Captain  Jack,  seeing  that  "he  was  cornered," 
began  to  quibble  about  what  part  of  the  Reservation 
he  was  to  go  on  to.  This  was  met  with  the  pi-oposi- 
tion  that  he  could  have  2ny  unoccupied  land.  Finding 
his  objections  all  fairly  met,  he  finally  said,  that,  if  he 
could  live  near  his  friend.  Link-river  Jack,  he  would 
go.  We  began  to  "  breathe  easy,"  feeling  that  the 
victory  was  ours,  when  the  Modoc  medicine-man 
arose,  and  simply  said,  "  Me-ki-gam-bla-ke-tu,"  (We 
won't  go  there) ;  when,  presto !  from  exultation 
every  countenance  was  changed  to  an  expression  of 
anxiety,  and  every  hand  grasped  a  revolver. 

The  moment  was  fraught  with  peril.  The  least 
wavering  then,  on  our  part,  woiiid  have  precipitated 
a  fight,  the  result  of  which  would  have  been  doubtful 
as  to  how  many,  and  who,  of  our  party  would  have 
come  out  alive.  It  is  quite  certain  that,  had  a  fight 
ensued,  what  has  since  startled  our  people  would  have 
been  anticipated,  and  that  the  name  of  Captain  Jack 
would  have  passed  away  with  but  little  notice  from 
among  the  savage  heroes. 

It  was  there  I  first  heard  those  terrible  words,  a 
part  of  which  have  since  become  famous,  uttered  but 
a  moment  before  the  attack  on  the  Peace  Commis- 
sion, on  April  11, 1873 — "  Ot-wc-kau-tux-e,"  —  mean- 
ing, in  this  instance,  "I  am  done  talking  ;  "  or,  when 
used  in  other  connections, "  All  ready !  "  or,  "  The  time 


322 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


has  come ! "  or,  "  Quit  talking."  The  vocabularies  of 
all  Indian  languages  arc  very  small;  hence,  a  word 
depends,  to  a  great  extent,  on  its  connection,  for  its 
meaning  and  power.  It  was  just  at  this  j^oint  that 
the  woman,  Tobey  Riddle,  who  has  since  proved  her 
sagacity  and  her  loyalty,  arose  to  her  feet,  and  said 
in  Modoc  tongue  to  her  people:  "Mo-lok-a  ditch-c 
ham-konk  lok-e  sti-nas  mo-na  gam-bla  ot-we,"  — 
("The  white  chief  talks  right.  His  heart  is  good  or 
strong.  Go  with  him  now!  ")  Frank  Riddle  joined 
the  wonian  Tobey  in  exhorting  the  Modocs  to  be 
quiet,  to  be  careful,  using  such  words  as  tend  to 
avert,  wbit  we  all  saw  was  liable  to  happen  any 
instant,  a  terrible  scene  of  blood. 

Dr.  McKay,  whos  >  long  experience  had  given  him 
much  sagacity,  arose  quickly  to  his  feet,  saying  in 
English,  "  Be  on  your  guard  1  Don't  lot  them  get  the 
drop  on  us."  Captain  Jack  started  to  retire  when  I 
intercepted  him,  saying,  "  Don't  leave  me  now ;  I  am 
your  friend,  but  I  am  not  afraid  of  you.  Be  careful 
what  you  do !  We  mean  peace,  but  are  ready  for  war. 
"We  will  not  begin ;  but  if  you  do,  it  shall  be  the  end  of 
your  people.  You  agreed  to  go  with  us,  and  you  shall 
do  it.  We  ai'C  ready.  Our  wagons  are  here  to  carry 
your  old  people  and  children.  We  came  for  you,  and 
we  are  not  going  back  without  you.     You  must  go  I  " 

lie  asked  "  what  I  would  do,  if  he  did  not."  I  told 
him  plainly  that  we  would  whip  Mm  until  he  was 
willing.  He  then  Avanted  to  know  where  my  men 
were  that  was  to  whip  him.  I  pointed  to  my  small 
squad  of  men.  I  shall  never  forget  his  reply.  "  I 
would  be  aohamed  to  figlit  so  few  men  with  all  my 
boys."    I   replied,  thai  it  was  force   enoupji  to  kill 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


323 


some  Modocs,  before  we  were  all  dead ;  that  when  we 
were  killed  more  white  men  would  come. 

;N^ot  having  very  strong  faith  in  his  p7'ide  about 
fighting  so  few  men,  I  informed  him  that  I  had  soldiers 
coming  to  help  us,  but  that  we  came  on  to  try  tall:- 
ing  first,  and  then  when  that  failed  we  would  send  for 
them  to  come;  finally  stating  to  him  that  he  could 
make  up  his  mind  to  go  with  us  on  the  morrow,  or 
figJd,  and  that  in  the  meanwhile  we  would  be  ready  at 
any  time  for  him  to  begin,  if  he  wished  to.  He  saic> 
then  what  he  repeated  many  times  to  Peace  Commis- 
sioners on  last  spring,  —  that  "  he  would  not  fire  the 
first  shot,"  but  if  we  did,  "  he  was  not  afraid  to  die." 
It  was  finally  agreed  that  he  should  have  until  the 
next  morning  to  make  answer  what  he  would  do,  and 
that  at  that  time  he  should  report  his  conclusion. 

This  ended  my  first  oflScial  council  with  the 
Modocs.  Captain  Jack  withdre^p■  to  his  lodge  to 
have  a  grand  "  pow-wow,"  leaving  our  party  to  deter- 
mine what  was  the  next  thing  for  us  to  do.  "We 
realized  that  we  were  "in  great  danger."  No  one 
dissented  from  the  opinion  that  peril  was  menacing 
our  party.  Our  only  hoijc  wns  to  put  on  a  brave  front. 
Retreat  at  that  hour  was  impossible,  with  even 
chances  for  escape.  We  despatched  a  messenger, 
under  pretence  of  hunting  our  horses, —  we  dared  not 
send  him  boldly  on  the  mission  without  excuses, — 
with  orders  for  our  military  squad  at  Linkville, 
twenty-five  miles  from  Modoc  camp,  to  rendezvous  at 
a  point  within  hearing  of  our  guns,  and  that,  in  the 
event  of  alarm,  to  ''  charge  the  camp,"  but  in  7W  other 
event  to  come  until  the  next  'norning. 

Having  despatched  the  courier,  we  carefully  in- 


824 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


epected  our  arms,  consisting  of  Henry  rifles  and.  navy 
revolvers.  Captain  Knapp's  experience  as  an  officer 
of  the  rebellion  and  McKay's  longer  experience  as  an 
Indian  fighter,  together  with  the  frontier  life  of  the 
remainder,  made  our  little  party  somewhat  formidable, 
though  inadequate  to  w^hat  might  at  any  moment 
become  a  fearful  trial  of  strength. 

In  this  connection  it  should  be  understood  that  at 
that  time  the  Modocs  were  very  poorly  armed  with 
old  muskets,  and  a  few  rifles  and  old-fashioned 
pistols. 

The  Indians  have  great  reverence  and  unlimited 
faith  in  their  "  medicine-men."  This  is  peculiar  to  all 
Indians,  but  to  none  more  so  than  the  Modocs.  While 
our  party  were  invoking  Almighty  ■:  Id  and  pi'eparing 
for  the  worst  that  might  come,  the  Modoc  medicine- 
man was  invoking  the  spirits  of  departed  warriors 
for  aid.  While  the  medicine-man  was  making  medi- 
cine, Captain  Jack  was  holding  a  council  with  his 
braves,  discussing  the  situation,  depending  somewhat 
on  the  impression  to  be  made  from  the  medicine 
camp,  and  fully  trusting  therein.  I  have  since  learned 
that  the  same  man,  who  subsequently  proposed  the 
assassination  of  the  Peace  Commission  in  the  "  Lava 
Bed,"  in  1873,  made  the  proposition  to  kill  our  party 
in  1869,  which,  to  the  credit  of  Captain  Jack,  he 
promptly  opposed  at  that  time  as  he  did  the  other. 

Now,  if  there  had  been  a  trial  of  strength  between 
the  good  and  the  bad,  we  should  not  have  been 
worthy  to  represent  Elijah;  but  the  Modocs  filled  the 
position  of  Ahab,  and  they  made  medicine  and  called 
loudly  on  their  gods,  but  failed  therein,  as  Baal  did 
Ahab.    As  men  will   do,  our  soldier  squad  disre- 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


829 


he 


isre- 


garded  or  overlooked  the  instruction  to  await  the 
signal  to  "  charge  camp,"  for  the  charge  was  made 
in  a  style  that  would  ha\'^e  done  g'  eat  credit  at  any 
subsequent  period  in  the  late  Modo".  war.  There  was 
spirit  at  the  bottom  of  this  unexpected  movement  of 
the  soldiers;  not  such  spirits  as  the  Modoc  medicine- 
man invoked,  but  regular  "  forty-rod  whiskey." 

On  leaving  Link  river,  they  had  secured  the  "  com- 
pany of  a  bottle,"  and,  the  night  being  cold,  they  had 
resorted  to  its  warming  influences.  The  consequence 
was  that,  when  they  arrived  at  the  appointed  place  to 
await  orders,  they  forgot  to  stop,  and  came  into  the 
camp  on  full  gallop.  The  horses'  feet  on  the  i'rozen 
ground,  the  breaking  of  sage  brush,  rattling  of 
sabres,  all  combined,  made  a  noise  well  calculated  to 
produce  sudden  fear  in  the  minds  of  all  parties. 
Our  men  were  all  under  ai*ms  and  discussing  the 
situation. 

The  medicine-man  was  going  through  his  incanta- 
tions, accompanied  by  the  songs  of  the  old  women, 
whose  sounds  still  linger  on  my  ear,  as  they  came  to 
our  camp,  wafted  by  the  breeze  from  the  lake.  It 
was  past  midnight,  and  still  the  great  council  was  in 
session,  debating  the  treachery  pi'oposed;  it  had  not 
been  voted  on  at  that  time.  Subsequent  reports  de- 
clare that  Schonchin's  John  had  spoken  in  favor  of 
the  measure.  Captain  Jack  was  making  a  speech 
against  it  at  the  time  the  soldiers  appeared. 

For  a  few  moments  the  scene  was  one  of  inde- 
scribable confusion;  the  medicine-man  cut  short  his 
prayers;  the  war  co  mcil  was  broken  up;  and  Indian 
braves  came  out  of  tl:;.^  lodge  without  waiting  for  the 
ceremonies  of  even  savage  courtesy,  but  "  pell-mell  " 


326 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


If   <i' 


;-  ■  ■ 


they  went  into  the  sage  brush,  each  one  taking  witli 
him  his  arms.  A  guard  was  immediately  placed,  sur- 
rounding the  whole  camp ;  Capt.  Knapp  giving  orders 
to  allow  no  one  to  pass  the  picket  lines. 

Few  eyes  closed  in  sleep  that  night;  daylight  dis- 
closed a  complete  circle  of  bayonets,  and  inside  about 
two  hundred  men,  women,  and  children;  but  the  brave 
Captain  Jack  was  not  there ;  nor  was  "  Schonchin's 
John,"  or  "Ellen's  Man,"  or  "Curly  Head  Doctor;" 
they  had  retired  to  the  "  Lava  Bed."  "We  issued  an 
order  for  all  Indians  to  form  in  a  line;  they  were  re- 
assured that  no  one  should  be  harmed;  that  they 
should  be  protected,  clothed,  and  cared  for,  but  that 
all  the  arms  must  be  delivered  up.  This  request 
brought  out  professions  and  promises  of  friendship; 
but  the  order  had  been  mad«  and  must  be  obeyed. 

The  Indians  refused  compliance,  and  a  file  of 
soldiers  was  ordered  to  seize  the  arms;  for  a  few 
moments  the  excitement  was  intense;  every  man  of 
our  party  stood  ready  for  "business,"  while  the  arms 
of  the  Modocs  were  seized,  and  a  guard  placed  over 
them.  The  aspect  presented  by  the  Modoc  camp  was 
one  that  will  not  soon  be  forgotten  by  our  party ;  the  old, 
the  young,  the  middle-aged,  the  crippled,  and  ragged, 
nearly  all  making  professions  of  loyalty,  and  rejoicing 
at  the  turn  events  had  taken. 

Provisions  were  issued  for  them,  and  order  made 
for  them  to  gather  up  the  ponies  and  prepare  for 
removal.  This  morning  was  the  first  time  I  heard 
"Queen  Mary's"  voice;  she  is  a  sister  of  Ki-en-te- 
poos,  —  Captain  Jack,  —  and  this  fact  gave  her  great 
power  over  him.  She  has  been  pronounced  "  Queen 
of  the  Modocs,"  on  account  of  her  beauty  and  power; 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


327 


she  was,  probably,  the  most  sagacious  individual  be- 
longing to  the  band.  This  Indian  queen  has  had 
many  opportunities  for  improvement^  having  ^)een  sold 
to  five  or  six  white  men  in  the  last  ten  years. 

While  she  has  induced  so  many  different  men  to  buy 
her  of  her  brother,  she  has  made  each  one,  in  turn, 
anxious  to  return  her  to  her  people;  but  not  until  she 
had  squandered  all  the  money  she  could  command. 
It  has  been  denied  that  Captain  Jack  was  ever  a  party 
to  these  several  matrimonial  speculations;  but  more 
strongly  asserted,  by  those  who  ought  to  know,  that 
"  Queen  Mary  "  has  been  a  great  source  of  wealth  to 
him.  I  am  of  that  opinion  myself,  after  weighing  all 
the  facts  in  the  case. 

On  the  morning  in  question  Mary  appeared  to 
plead  for  her  absent  brother,  that  he  might  be  for- 
given, saying  that  he  was  no  coward,  but  that  he  was 
scared;  that  he  was  not  to  blame  for  rmming,  and 
that  she  could  induce  him  to  return.  It  was  finally 
arranged  that  she  should  go  to  the  "  Lava  Bed  "  in 
company  with  our  guide,  Gus  Horn,  and  assure  her 
brother  that  no  harm  had  befallen  the  camp,  and  none 
would  fall  on  them. 

One  day  was  spent  in  collecting  the  Indian  ponies, 
taking  Indian  provisions  from  the  "caches,"  and  nego- 
tiating with  the  runaways  for  their  return,  which  was 
not  accomplished.  The  following  morning  the  camp 
was  broken  up,  and  all  the  Indians,  big  and  little,  old 
and  young,  —  as  we  supposed  at  the  time,  —  were 
started  to  the  Reservation.  Some  were  on  ponies, 
many  of  them  on  our  wagons,  and  perhaps  a  few  on 
foot. 

We  reached  Link  river,  where  fires  had  been  made, 


328 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


beef  and  flour  prepared,  and  by  nine,  P.  M.,  every- 
body seemed  contented,  except  the  personal  friends  of 
the  runaways. 

Messengers  were  kept  on  the  road  between  our 
camp  and  the  "  Lava  Beds "  almost  constantly  for  the 
three  days  we  remained  at  Link  river.  Finally  the 
great  chief  surrendered,  and  "  came  in,"  on  assurances 
that  "  the  Klamaths  should  not  be  permitted  to  make 
sport  of  him,  and  call  him  a  coward  for  running  from 
our  small  force."  This,  then,  was  the  ultimatum,  and 
was  accepted,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  kept  faithfully 
on  our  part. 

The  sight  presented  by  Captain  Jack  and  his  men, 
when  they  arrived  at  Link  river,  if  it  could  have  been 
witnessed  by  those  who  have  taken  so  great  an  inter- 
est in  him,  would  have  dispelled  all  ideas  of  a  "  Fen- 
nimore  Cooper  hero." 

I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  an  incident  character- 
istic of  the  Modocs.  While  waiting  for  Jack  and  his 
remairing  braves,  I  accidentally  learned  that  an  old 
woman  had  been  left  in  camp  on  Lost  river,  antl,  ask- 
ing for  the  reason,  was  told  that  she  was  too  old  to  dig 
roots,  or  to  work,  and  they  had  left  her  some  wood  and 
water, and  a  "little  grub,"  enough  for  her  to  die  easy  on. 
A  pair  of  new  blankets,  bread,  sugar  and  meat,  were 
prepared  to  send  her;  also  a  horse  to  ride,  and  volun- 
teers asked  for,  to  bring  the  old  woman  in.  Not  a 
volunteer  came  forward,  save  a  "young  buck,"  who 
was  willing,  provided  he  could  have  the  blankets  and 
pony,  should  he  find  her  dead,  or  if  she  should  die 
on  the  road.  It  needed  no  reflection  to  understand 
that  that  meant  murder. 

After  much  difliculty,  the  family  to  whom  the  old 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


329 


squaw  belonged  was  found,  and  a  man  and  woman 
sent  after  her,  with  the  warning,  that  if  they  failed  to 
bring  her  they  must  suffer  the  consequences.  They 
insisted  on  being  paid  in  advance  for  their  labor. 
They  were  not  paid,  but  they  brought  her  in  alive, 
but  so  weak  that  she  had  to  be  held  on  the  hoi'se,  the 
squaw  sitting  behind  her.  It  is  said  the  Indian  has 
no  gratitude,  but  this  old  woman  refuted  that  assertion. 

On  the  arrival  of  Captain  Jack's  party,  arrange- 
ments were  made  to  proceed  at  once  to  Klamath  Res- 
ervation. On  the  morning  of  Dec.  27th  we  started 
on  our  way.  At  the  request  of  Captain  Jack  and  his 
representative  men,  the  squad  of  soldiers  were  sent 
forward  to  the  fort;  the  Indians  claiming  that  their 
presence  made  the  women  and  children  afraid;  and 
that,  having  surrendered  their  aims,  they  were  power- 
less to  do  harm,  and  had  no  desire  to  turn  back.  It 
may  be  thought  a  strange  concession  to  make;  but 
w^ith  their  arms  in  our  possession,  we  made  it;  thus 
proving  our  confidence  in  Indian  integrity,  by  reliev- 
ing them  of  the  presence  of  the  soldiers.  We  were 
safe,  and  had  no  fear  of  the  result. 

The  morning  was  intensely  cold,  and  the  road  led 
over  a  high  mountain  covered  with  snow  to  the  depth 
of  twenty  inches.  On  the  28th  we  arrived  at  Modoc 
Point,  Klamath  Reservation.  "We  were  met  by  a 
large  delegation  of  agency  Indians.  The  meeting 
and  peace-making  of  these  people,  who  had  been 
enemies  so  long,  was  one  of  peculiar  interest  and  full 
of  incident,  worthy  of  being  recorded.  I  pass  over  the 
first  day,  by  saying  that  the  Klamaths  were  much 
chagrined  when  we  issued  an  order,  at  the  request  of 
Jack,  against  gambling. 


330 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Had  we  ii  >t  done  so,  much  confusion  of  property 
and  domestic  relation  would  have  ensued.  These 
people  arc  inveterate  gamblers,  and  in  fits  of  madness 
have  been  known  to  stake  their  wives  and  daughters 
on  the  throw  of  a  stick,  sometimes  a  card.  The 
second  day  we  set  apart  for  a  meeting  of  reconcil- 
iation. A  line  was  established  between  the  Modoc 
and  Klamath  camp,  and  a  place  designated  for  the 
forthcoming  meeting,  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  and 
beneath  a  wide-spreading  pine  tree. 

The  Klamaths  formed  on  one  side  of  the  line,  and 
awaited  the  arrival  of  the  Modocs,  who  came  reluct- 
antly, apparently  half  afraid;  Captain  Jack  taking  a 
position  fronting  Allen  David,  —  the  Klamath  chief, — 
and  only  a  few  feet  distant.  There  si*  el  these 
warrior  chieftains,  unarmed,  gazing  with  Indian  stoi- 
cism into  each  other's  faces.  No  words  were  spoken 
for  a  few  moments.  The  thoughts  that  passed 
through  each  mind  may  never  be  known,  but,  per- 
haps, were  of  bloody  battles  past,  or  of  the  possible 
future. 

The  silence  was  broken  on  our  part,  saying,  "  You 
meet  to-day  in  peace,  to  bury  all  the  bad  past,  to 
make  friends.  You  are  of  the  same  blood,  of  the 
same  heart.  You  are  to  live  as  neighbors.  This 
country  belongs  to  you,  all  alike.  Your  interests  are 
one.     You  can  shake  hands  and  be  friends." 

A  hatchet  was  laid  in  the  open  space,  a  twig  of 
pine  was  handed  each  chieftain,  —  Allen  David  and 
Captain  Jack,  —  as  they  advanced,  each  stooping  and 
covering  the  axe  with  the  pine  boughs ;  planting  their 
feet  upon  it,  they  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  a  mo- 
ment, and  shook  hands  with  a  long-continued  grasp, 


/ 


WIOWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


331 


but  spoke  no  word.  As  each  retired  to  liis  position 
outside  of  the  line,  the  sub-chiefs  and  head  men 
came  forward,  two  at  a  time,  and  followed  the  ex- 
ample of  the  chieftains,  unl  11  all  had  exchanged  the 
pledge  of  friendship,  and  then  resumed  their  respec- 
tive places.  Allen  David  broke  the  silence  in  a  speech 
of  great  power,  —  and  such  a  speech  as  none  but  an 
Indian  orator  can  make.  I  have  listened  to  some  of 
the  most  popular  speakers  in  America,  but  I  do 
not  remember  ever  having  heard  a  speech  more  re- 
plete with  meaning,  or  one  much  more  logical,  and 
certainly  none  exhibiting  more  of  nature's  oratory. 
It  was  not  of  that  kind  taught  inside  brick  walls,  but 
that  which  God  gives  to  few,  and  gives  but  sparingly. 
I  repeat  it  as  reported  by  Dr.  McKay. 

Fixing  his  eye  intently  on  Captain  Jack,  and  raising 
himself  to  his  full  proportion  of  six  feet  in  height, 
he  began  in  measured  sentences  full  of  pathos:  "I 
see  you.  I  see  your  eyes.  Your  skin  is  red  like 
my  own.  I  will  show  you  my  heart.  We  have  long 
been  enemies.  Many  of  our  brave  muck-a-lux 
(people)  are  dead.  The  ground  is  black  with  their 
blood.  Their  bont  i  have  been  carried  by  the  '  Cay- 
otes,'  to  the  mountains,  and  scattered  among  the 
rocks.  Our  people  are  melting  away  like  snow. 
We  see  the  white  chief  is  strong.  The  law  is  strong. 
We  cannot  be  Indians  longer.  We  must  take  the 
white  man's  law.  The  law  our  fathers  had  is  dead. 
The  white  chief  brought  you  here.  We  have  made 
friends.  We  have  washed  each  other's  hands;  they 
are  not  bloody  now.  We  are  friends.  We  have  buried 
all  the  bad  blood.  We  will  not  dig  it  up  again.  The 
white  man  sees  us.     Soch-e-la  Ty-ee.  —  God  is  look- 


('  !;? 


I  m 


832 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


i'ng  at  our  hearts.  The  sun  is  a  witness  between  us; 
the  mountains  are  looking  on  ua."  Turning  to  the 
great  tree,  with  a  subUme  gesture :  "  This  pine-tree  is 
a  witness,  O  my  people  I  When  you  see  this  tree, 
remember  it  is  a  witness  that  here  we  made  friends 
with  the  Mo-a-doc-as.  Never  cut  down  that  tree. 
Let  the  arm  be  broke  that  would  hurt  it;  let  the  hand 
die  that  would  break  a  twig  from  it.  So  long  as  snow 
shall  Tall  on  Yai-nax  mountain,  let  it  stand.  Long 
as  the  waters  run  in  the  river,  let  it  stand.  Long 
as  the  white  rabbit  shall  live  in  the  man-si-ne-ta 
(groves),  let  it  stand.  Let  our  children  play  round  it; 
let  the  young  people  dance  under  its  leaves,  and 
let  the  old  men  smoke  together  in  its  shade.  Let 
this  tree  stand  there  forever,  as  a  witness.  I  have 
done." 

Captain  Jack,  on  assuming  an  attitude  peculiar  to 
himself,  Avith  his  eye  iixed  intently  on  the  Klamath 
chief,  began  in  a  low,  musical  voice,  half-suppressed, 
half  hesitatingly :  "  The  white  chief  brought  me  here. 
I  feel  ashamed  of  my  people,  because  they  are  poor. 
I  feel  like  a  man  in  a  strange  country  without  a  father. 
My  heart  was  afraid.  I  have  heard  your  words ;  they 
warm  my  heart.  I  am  not  strange  now.  The  blood 
is  all  washed  from  our  hands.  We  are  enemies  no 
longer.  We  have  buried  the  past.  We  have  forgot- 
ten that  we  were  enemies.  We  will  not  throw  away 
the  white  chief's  words.  We  will  not  hide  them  in  the 
grass.  I  have  planted  a  strong  stake  in  the  ground. 
I  have  tied  myself  with  a  strong  rope.  I  will  not  dig 
up  the  stake.  I  will  not  break  the  rope.  My  heart  is 
the  heart  of  my  people.  I  am  their  words.  I  am  not 
speaking  for  myself.      I  speak  their  hearts.     My 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


333 


heart  comes  up  to  my  mouth.  I  cannot  keep  it  down 
with  a  sharp  Htlck.     I  am  done." 

Xo  doubt  that,  at  the  time  ol'  making  this  speech, 
Captain  Jack  really  meant  ah  he  said;  and  if  he 
failed  to  make  good  his  promises,  there  were  reasons 
that  may  not  entitle  him  or  his  people  to  censure  for 
the  failure.  Certainly  no  peace-making  could  have 
been  more  sincere,  or  promised  more  for  the  settle- 
ment of  the  Modoc  troubles.  The  remainder  of  the 
day  was  passed  in  exchanging  friendships  (ma-mak- 
sti-nas).  Preparations  were  completed  for  issuing 
annuity  goods  to  the  Modocs. 

Other  Indians  had  been  previously  served,  but  this 
was  but  the  second  time  that  the  Modocs  had  ever  re- 
ceived goods  from  the  Government,  in  conformity 
with  the  treaty  stipulations  of  1864.  For  five  years 
the  goods  had  been  regularly  furnished  and  distributed 
to  the  Klamaths  and  the  few  Modocs  who  remained 
faithful  to  the  compact.  If  Captain  Jack's  band  had 
not  received  goods,  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the  Gov- 
ernment or  its  agents,  but  because  they  wilfully  re- 
fused to  obey  the  orders  of  Government  officers,  by 
remaining  away  from  the  home  they  had  accepted. 

The  goods  provided  were  of  the  best  quality,  deliv- 
ered on  contract,  and  with  packages  unbroken,  and 
in  presence  of  Capt.  Goodale,  U.  S.  Army,  then  in 
command  of  Fort  EJamath ;  and  they  were  distributed 
among  his  people.  Captain  Jack  and  his  head  men 
were  seated  in  the  midst  of  a  semi-circle,  with  the 
other  men  on  each  side,  the  women  in  front,  in  half- 
circular  rows ;  the  children  still  in  front  of  these,  on 
either  hand.  When  all  were  seated,  the  packages 
were  broken,  and  the  goods  prepared  for  issue.    Cap- 


m 

'  J I 

1 

**1 

H 

1  jtjMjfl 

V' 

"» 

Mf. 

- 

<• 

^lli 

m 


Hit   ;H 


Vki^' 


■1 


334 


WIGWASI   AND   WARPATH. 


tain  Jack  and  his  sub-chiefs  received  two  pairs  of 
blankets  each,  one  pair  to  each  of  his  head  men,  and 
one  blanket  to  every  other  man,  woman,  and  child, 
except  six  very  small  children,  who  were  given  one- 
half  a  Uanlcet  each.  They  were  all-wool,  "eight- 
pound  "  Oregon  blankets,  and  overweighed,  by  actual 
test,  nearly  one-half  pound  per  pair.  In  addition, 
each  man  rcjcived  a  Avoollcn  shirt  and  cloiih  for  one 
pair  of  joants;  each  woman  and  child,  one  flannel 
dress  pattern,  with  liberal  supply  of  thread,  needles, 
and  buttons.  I  have  been  thus  particular  about  the 
facts  concerning  this  issue,  because  much  sympathy 
has  been  manifested  for  the  Modocs  gn  account  of  the 
wrongs  said  to  have  been  practised  against  them. 
After  the  distributi'^  a,  the  Modocs,  proud  of  their 
new  goods,  retired  to  their  camps,  on  the  shores  of 
the  lake. 

The  "Peace  Tree,"  under  which  the  issue  was 
made,  was  on  a  sloping  hill-side,  overlooking  the  val- 
ley, fTid  commanding  a  view  of  the  camp  of  Captain 
Jar  '^.  Let  u  i  see  them,  as  they  trudge  homeward, 
with  their  rich  prizes.  They  do  not  go  like  the  In- 
dians with  their  blankets  around  them,  and  feathers 
streaming  in  the  Avlnd.  Sin oe  their  retreat  from  the 
Reservation  they  have  associated  with  and  learned 
many  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  civilized  white 
people.  Nevertheless  they  presented  a  picturesque 
appearance,  —  old  and  young,  loaded  down  with 
goods,  flour  and  beef,  apparently  happy;  and  I  doubt 
not  they  were  happ}\ 

Their  camps,  scattered  promiscuoasly  along  the 
edge  of  the  water,  were  constructed  of  various  mate- 
rials.   A  few  were  ordinary  tents,  others  made  over 


IBHI 


WIG  VAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


335 


a  frame  of  willow  poles,  covered  with  matting,  blan- 
kets, wagon  sheets,  and  such  other  material  as  could 
be  pressed  into  service.  The  ponies  are  scattered 
over  the  plain,  crcpping  the  winter  grass,  or  tied  up 
waiting  for  the  owner's  return. 

The  inside  of  the  camps  are  always  '  cluttered,"  — 
a  Yankee  word,  which  means  in.  confusion  and  dis- 
order. The  women  proceed  to  stow  away  the  ti«'W 
dresses  in  l)askets  and  sacks,  or  spread  them  for  bed- 
ding; the  men  to  smoke  and  wait  until  the  feast  is 
made  ready  from  the  supplies  of  flour  and  beef  pro- 
vided. They  have  been  cheated  out  of  what  some 
eastern  people  would  consider  the  best  part  of  the 
beef, — the  "  hen  d  and  pluck."  That  delectable  part  of 
the  animal  had  been  captured  by  the  waiting  Klamath 
squaws  at  the  iJme  of  the  slaughtering.  Squaws 
have  the  smelliug  qualities  of  a  war  horse,  "  that 
scents  the  battle  from  afar."  xYt  every  slaughter  they 
were  sure  to  arrive  in  time  lo  secure  the  aforesaid 
"  head  and  pluck,"  which,  with  them,  means  every- 
thing except  dressed  meat.  Even  the  feet  are  eaten. 
First  throwing  them  on  the  fire  and  burning  themawhile, 
they  then  cut  off  the  scorched  parts  to  eat.  The  foot 
is  again  conveyed  to  the  fire,  until  fairly  charred; 
again  stripped,  and  so  on,  until  but  little  is  left,  and 
that  little  docs  not  resemble  an  ox's  foot  very  much. 

The  head  is  cooked  in  bettor  shape.  A  hole. is 
dug  in  the  ground,  in  which  a  fire  is  made,  and,  when 
burned  down,  the  embers  are  removed,  and  the  head 
of  the  old  Government  ox  is  dropped  in  just  as  it 
left  the  butcher's  hands.  Hair,  horns,  and  all  are 
covered  up  with  ashes  and  coals,  a  fire  made  over  it 
and  left  to  cook.    After  a  few  hours  it  is  removed,  and 


m 

m-  IL'I 

i5»  ml 


336 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATH. 


•I   :i 


is  then  ready  to  serve  up;  or  rather  it  (the  head)  is 
placed  upon  the  ground,  and  the  hungry  Indians, 
each  armed  with  a  knife,  surround  it  and  proceed  to 
carve  and  eat.  Portions  that  may  be  too  raw  are 
then  tlirown  on  the  coals  and  charred;  even  the 
bones  are  eaten.  Among  the  old  and  poor  people, 
they  carefully  preserve  their  respective  ox's  feet,  and, 
when  in  want,  th'-jw  them  on  the  coals,  and  the  meal 
is  prepared  in  short  order. 

Uncivilized  Indians  have  no  regular  hour  for  meals, 
but  generally  each  one  consults  convenience,  seldom 
eating  together  except  on  feast  occasions.  N^either 
have  they  regular  hours  for  sleeping  or  rising,  each 
member  of  a  family  or  tribe  consulting  their  own 
pleasure. 

While  we  watch  the  novel  scenes  of  Indians  "  get- 
ting wood,''  water,  cooking,  and  eating,  we  see  the 
enterprising  young  Klamaths  —  now  released  from 
the  order  forbidding  their  hurrying  down  to  the 
Modoc  camps  —  hasten  there,  some  to  renew  old 
acquaintance,  others  to  tell  in  soft  tones  to  the  listening 
ears  of  Modoc  maidens:  the  tale  that  burdened  their 
hearts,  and  to  negotiate  for  new  wives ;  or  it  may  be, 
through  the  mediation  of  a  "  deck  "  of  greasy  cards, 
to  persuade  the  Modocs  to  divide  goods  with  them. 

These  Klamath  boys  had  received  their  new  clothes 
a  few  days  previous,  and  had  soiled  them  enough  to 
make  them  comport  well  v/ith  Indian  toilets.  While 
we  are  engaged  making  observations,  cast  the  eye 
westward  over  the  valley  of  the  Klamath,  and  see  the 
huge  shadows  approach  like  great  moving  clouds, 
until  suddenly  they  start  up  tlie  sloping  hill-side 
towards  us.     Look  clcs(;ly  now  at  the  sun  resting  a 


la 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


337 


moment  on  the  summit  of  Mount  McGlaughlin.  See 
it  settle  slowly,  as  though  splitting  the  crown  of  the 
mountain  in  twain,  until,  while  you  gaze,  he  drops 
quickly  out  of  sight.  Little  children  say  he  has 
hurncd  a  hole  in  the  mountain,  and  buried  himself 
there.  But,  oh,  the  shadows  have  crept  over  us,  and 
we  feel  the  chill  which  ensues.  Look  above  and 
behind  us,  and  see  them  climb  the  rocky  crags  until 
we  are  all  ' '  in  the  shadow." 

AVe  now  see  our  teamster  boys  piling  high  tht 
pitch-pine  logs,  and  soon  the  crackling  flames  begin 
to  paint  fresh  shadows  round  us.  The  dark  forms  of 
long-haired  men  gather  in  circles  round  the  fire;  for 
we  are  to  have  a  ^'  cultus  wa-wa,"  (a  big  free  talk). 
White  men  and  Indians  change  their  base  as  smoke 
or  flame  compels,  and  all,  in  half  gloomy  silence,  wait 
the  signal  to  begin.  A  white  man  speaks  first  of  his 
people,  their  laws,  religion,  and  habits ;  tells  how  law 
is  made ;  how  the  white  man  foimd  his  religion ;  the 
history  of  the  Bible;  extols  his  own  faith,  and  labors 
to  reconcile  in  untutored  minds  the  difference  betwixt 
good  and  bad,  right  and  wrong,  and  by  simple  lessons 
to  instil  the  great  precepts  of  Christianity. 

The  red  man  listens  with  sober  face  and  thoughtful 
brow.  AYhen  opportunity  is  made,  he  puts  queries 
about  iijany  things  they  do  not  know.  This  is  not  an 
ollicial  council,  so  all  feel  free  to  speak.  An  old  In-. 
diji.n,  ^'ith  his  superstitious  habits  and  ideas  clinging 
to  him,  like  a  worn-out  blanket  in  tatters,  clutching 
the  old  wdth  one  hand,  and  Avith  the  other  reaching 
out  for  the  new,  rises,  and  with  great  dignity  tells 
of  the  religious  faith  of  his  fathers,  and  makes  apol- 
ogy for  their  ignorance  and  his  own;  says,  "I  have 


4 


■-  III 


338 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


long  heard  of  this  rchgion  of  the  white  man 


I  ]'dve 

heard  about  the  'Holy  Spirit'  coming  to  him.  I 
wonder  if  it  would  ever  come  to  my  people.  I  am 
old,  I  cannot  live  long.  May  be  it  has  come  now. 
I  feel  like  a  new  kind  of  lire  was  in  my  heart.  May 
be  you  have  brought  this  '  Holy  Spirit.' 

"I  think  you  have.  "When  you  came  here  first  we 
were  all  in  bad  blood.  Now  I  see  Klamaths,  Mo- 
docs,  Snakes,  and  Ya-hoo-skins,  all  around  me  like 
brothers.  No  common  man  could  do  this.  May  be 
you  are  a  holy  spirit.  When  I  was  a  young  man  I 
saw  a  white  man  on  his  knee  telling  the  'Holy  Spirit' 
to  come,     May  be  the  Great  Sj)irit  sent  you  with  it." 

This  old  man,  whose  name  was  Link-river  Joe, 
had  attended  a  meeting  held  by  Rev.  A.  F.  Waller, 
at  the  Dallas  Methodist  Mission,  twenty  years  before, 
and  had  still  retained  some  of  the  impressions  made 
at  that  time. 

Old  man  Chi-lo-quin  said  he  had  often  heard  that 
the  white  man  could  tell  when  the  sun  would  turn 
black  a  long  time  before  it  happened,  —  referring  to 
the  eclipse,  —  and  inquired  how  the  white  man  knew 
so  much.  This  was  explained  until  the  old  fellow 
said  he  thought  he  knew  how  it  was;  but  I  doubt  it. 
Thus  the  last  night  of  18G9  wore  away  with  questions 
and  answers.  Finally  we  mentioned  that  "to-morrow 
will  be  the  New  Year."  The  question  was  asked, 
how  we  knew  it  was  so.  Never  have  I  seen  an  au- 
dience of  five  or  six  hundred  persons  so  oager  for 
information.  We  proposed  to  explain,  and,  huKimg 
up  a  watch,  s-.id  to  them,  that  when  all  the  "  little 
sticks"  on  its  face  were  in  a  row  together,  the  old  year 
would  die  in  the  west,  and  another  would  be  born  in 


AViaWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


339 


the  east.  The  watch  was  passed  around  while  the 
explanation  was  being  made.  Allen  David  requested 
that,  since  all  could  not  see  the  watch,  we  should  lire 
a  pistol  at  the  exact  moment.  After  assurance  that  it 
would  cause  no  alarm,  we  held  the  pistol  upward  above 
our  lieads^  and  announced, —  '^five  minutes  more  and 
1839  will  be  dead,  —  four  minutes  now,  —  now  but 
Ju'ce."  The  stillness  was  almost  pairful,  —  "Two 
minutes  more,  —  now  but  one,"  —  and  five  or  six  hun- 
dred red  men  were  holding  breath  to  catch  the  signal, 

—  all  eyes  watching  the  finger  that  was  to  announce, 
by  a  motion,  the  event;  the  three  hands  on  the  face 
of  the  watch  were  in  range,  —  the  finger  crooked, — 
a  blaze  of  light  flashed  over  the  dusky  faces,  and  a 
report  went  reverberating  up  the  rocky  canons,  and 
before  it  died  away,  six  hundred  voices  joined  in 
an  almost  unearthly  farewell  to  "  18G9,"  and,  quickly 
facing  to  the  east,  another  wild  shout  of  welcome  to 
"1870." 

The  crowd  slowly  dispersed,  leaving  one  white  man 
and  an  interpreter  sitting  by  the  smouldering  fire, 
talking  over  the  wonders  of  the  white  man's  knowl- 
edge and  power,  accompanied  by  old  Chief  Schon- 
chin.  Captain  Jack,  Allen  David,  and  O-chc-o.  Thus 
was  begun  the  year  1870.  I  was  surrounded  then 
with  elements-  of  power  for  mischief  that  were  only 
waiting  for  the  time  when  accident  or  mismanagement 
would  impel  one  of  these  chie^'tains  —  Captain  Jack 

—  to  open  a  chapter  with  his  finger  dipped  in  the 
heart's  blood  of  one  of  the  noblest  of  the  Ame-ican 
army,  the  lamented  Christian  soldier,  General  Canby, 
who  wat,  then  quietly  enjoying  a  respite  I'rom  the 
labors  of  the  rebellion,  with  the  honors  of  a  well- 


at 


4 


M^l 


fii 


Eg 


i'mi 


340 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


spent  life  gathering  in  a  clustering  wreath  aronnd 
the  great  warrior's  brow,  settling  down  so  lightly 
that  he  scarcely  seemed  aware  that  he  wore  a  coronet 
made  of  heroic  deeds  and  manly  actions.  He  was 
looking  hopefully  to  a  future  of  rest  in  the  bosom  of 
his  family,  and  consoling  himself  that  life's  hardest 
battles  were  over,  and  that  when,  in  a  good  old  age, 
the  roll-call  should  be  sounded  for  him,  his  friends 
would  answer  in  salutes  of  honor  over  his  grave. 

While  we  were  shedding  little  rays  of  light  on  the 
darkened  minds  of  our  hearers,  a  beardless  Indian 
boy,  with  face  almost  white,  was  sporting  with  his 
fellows,  or  quietly  sleeping  in  his  father's  lodge, 
soothed  to  rest  by  the  rippling  waters  of  Klamath 
lake.  This  boy  —  Boston  Charley  —  was  to  send 
the  messenger  of  death  through  the  heart  of  the 
eminent  divine  —  Dr.  Thomas.  That  night  Dr. 
Thomas  was  with  his  friends,  watching  on  bended 
laiees  before  a  sacred  altar,  waiting  for  the  death  of 
1869  and  the  birth  of  a  new  year,  little  dreaming  that 
the  crimson  current  of  his  life  was  so  soon  to  mingle 


in 


recording  the 


with  the  blood  of  the  other  hero 
tragic  event  of  the  year  1873. 

He,  too,  had  fought  the  good  fight  of  the  cross  for 
thirty  long  years,  and  now  felt  the  honors  of  his 
church  gathering  around  his  gray  locks,  and  was  look- 
ing steadily  forward  to  the  hour  when  his  Greiil  Com- 
mander should  call  him  to  his  reward;  hoping  quietly 
and  peacefully  to  gather  up  his  feet  in  God's  own 
appointed  time,  and,  bearing  with  him  his  sheaves, 
present  them  as  his  credentials  to  a  mansion  of  eternal 
rest.  While  old  Chief  Hrhon-chin,  with  his  long  gray 
hair  floating  in  the  winds  of  the  new-born  year,  was 


WIGWAM  AND  ^TARPATH. 


341 


opening  his  heart  to  the  influx  of  hght,  sitting  quietly 
by  the  dying  council  fire,  his  brother  John  was  brood- 
ing over  his  broken  hopes  of  careless  life  or  high 
ambition,  sitting  moody  and  gloomy  over  "his  own 
camp-fire,  or  dreaming  of  a  coming  hour  Avhen  he 
might  avenge  the  insults  offered  his  race.  It  may 
be  he  was  living  over  the  scenes  of  his  stormy  life, 
while  the  hand  that  had  that  day  received  from  my 
hands  pledges  of  friendship  and  Government  faith 
was  in  three  short  years  to  fire  eleven  shots  at  the 
heart  that  beat  then  in  kindliest  sympathy  with  his 
race. 

The  last  hours  of  the  dying  year  and  the  first  of 
the  new  one  had  I  given  from  my  life  for  the  advance- 
ment of  a  race,  whose  very  helplessness  enhanced  the 
zeal  with  which  I  labored  for  them.  I  could  not 
draw  aside  the  veil  that  hid  the  future,  and  see  the 
gleaming  eyes  of  Schon-chin  John,  nor  his  left  hand 
clutching  a  dagger  while  his  right  discharged  re- 
peated shots  at  my  breast.  I  did  not  then  see  my 
own  body  prostrate  and  bleeding  in  the  rocks  of  the 
Lava  Bed,  or  my  own  beloved  family  surrounded 
with  sympathizing  friends,  eagerly  watching  the 
electric  sparks  speaking  words  of  hope  and  despair 
alternately ;  but  I  did  see,  somewhere  ui  the  future, 
my  hand  numing  over  whited  page,  telling  the 
world  of  the  way  I  [)U8sed  the  watch-night  of  1869. 


'in 


mm 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


BURYING  THE   HATCHET  — A    TURNING-POINT. 


On  the  morning  of  January  1st,  1870,  Captain 
Jack's  band  of  Modoc  Indians  was  placed  in  charge 
of  Captain  Knapp,  under  favorable  circumstances. 
Supplies  of  beef  and  flour  were  secured  and  issued 
to  them  in  sufficient  quantities.  Indeed,  they  were 
better  fed  than  other  Indians  belonging  to  the  agency. 
They  had  brought  with  them  fish  and  roots,  which,  in 
addition  to  rations  issued  as  above  referred  to,  was 
altogether  sufficient;  and,  having  obtained  from  Agent 
Knapp  the  necessary  implements,  they  began  work 
in  good  earnest,  by  cutting  saw  logs,  making  rails, 
and  hewing  house  logs,  preparing  to  make  a  per- 
manent settlement  at  Modoc  Point.  The  arrange- 
ments had  been  fully  explained  to  the  Klamaths, 
Wal-pah-pas,  Snake  Indians  and  Modocs,  at  the 
peace-making  under  the  great  witness  tree,  and  fully 
agreed  to  by  all  parties. 

It  was  further  agreed  and  understood,  with  the  con- 
sent of  the  Link-river  Klamath  Indians,  who  partially 
occupied  the  land  so  taken  for  the  Modoc  home,  that 
the  Modocs  were  to  share  equally  with  them  in  the 
use  of  the  timber  on  the  side  of  the  mountains  near- 
est to  the  new  settlement. 

The  land  was  designated  lying  adjacent,  and  the 
Modocs  were  to  select  the  particular  tract  that  each 
might  desire  for  a  home,  with  the  understanding  that 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


343 


they  were  to  be  the  owners  thereof,  and  that,  when 
allotments  of  land  in  severalty  should  be  made,  by 
order  of  the  Government,  as  stipulated  in  the  treaty 
of  1864,  the  selection  then  made  shoidd  be  ratified 
and  confirmed  to  the  occupant.  With  this  under- 
standing, Jack  and  his  people  began  imjjrovements 
for  a  new  home,  and,  I  believe,  with  a  full,  settled 
determination  to  make  it  permanent. 

^o  semi-savages  ever  went  to  work  more  cheer- 
fully than  did  these  people.  Whatever  may  have 
been  their  faults,  or  what  of  crime  attached  to  them 
since,  this  fact  should  be  remembered, — that  they  did 
then  acknowledge  the  obligations  of  the  treaty.  Mark 
the  succession  of  events,  and  you  will  have  some  con- 
ception of  the  motives  and  reasons  why  the  late  un- 
fortunate Peace  Commissioners,  with  the  lamented 
Gen.  Canby,  continued  its  labors,  and  protracted  its 
efforts,  to  secure  peace  with  the  Modocs,  even  when 
hope  seemed  forlorn,  and  the  public  press  were  hurl- 
ing denunciations  against  the  "  Peace  policy,"  and  the 
Commissioners  especially. 

Gen.  Canby  knew  all  the  circumstances,  as  did  Dr. 
Thomas  and  myself,  and  with  a  firm  I'esolve  to  be 
just,  we  maintained  silence,  recollecting  a  memorable 
saying,  "Let  them  alone ;  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

The  Modocs  worked  with  a  will,  and  had  made  sev- 
eral hundred  rails,  and  hewn  logs  for  houses,  when 
avarice,  stimulated  by  envy,  bi'ought  about  quarrels 
between  the  Link-river  Indians  and  Modocs;  the 
former  taunting  the  latter,  calling  them  hallo-e-me, 
tilli-cum  (strangers) ;  claiming  the  timber,  though 
admitting  that  they  had  agreed  that  the  Modocs  might 
cut  it,  nevertheless,  saying,  "  It  is  our  timber ;  you 


ili 


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( 


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***■*•»,, 


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lit  ;; 


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;      ii 


344 


WIGVVAJI   AND   WARPATH. 


may  use  it,  but  it  is  ours.  You  make  the  rails,  but 
we  want  some  of  them." 

Captain  Jack's  people  recalled  the  understanding 
on  the  day  of  peace-making.  The  quarrel  grew  warm, 
and  Agent  Knapp  was  appealed  to,  by  Captain  Jack, 
to  settle  the  difficulties.  This  was  one  of  the  turning- 
points  of  a  history  that  is  reeking  with  blood. 

Cajjt.  Ivnapp  was  an  army  officer  who  had  been 
assigned  to  duty  as  Indian  agent.  That  he  was  a 
brave  soldier,  and  had  made  a  good  record,  is  beyond 
question.  In  his  official  dealings  with  the  Indians  he 
was  honest,  I  doubt  not.  He  is  the  only  agent  that 
has  ever  had  charge  of  Captain  Jack's  band  since  the 
fall  of  186i. 

Captain  Jack  and  his  friends  have  published  to  the 
world  that  they  were  starved  and  cheated  by  Govern- 
ment agents  while  on  Klamath  Reservation  in  1870. 

I  believe  the  assertion  wholly  unfounded.  Agent 
Knapp  came  to  the  work  having  no  heart  in  it;  no 
knowledge  of  the  Indian  character;  no  faith  in  them 
or  their  manhood;  no  ambition  to  elevate  them.  It  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he  took  but  little  pains 
with  them  beyond  seeing  that  rations  were  issued,  — 
which  I  believe  was  done  promptly. 

The  position  was  unsought  and  undesirable,  and 
one  he  wished  to  vacate.  Had  Capt.  Knapp  been 
every  way  qualified  for  this  duty;  had  his  experience 
given  liim  knowledge  of  Indian  character;  had  he 
sought  the  position,  or  been  selected  for  it  on  account 
of  his  fitness  for  this  kind  of  labor,  and  had  his  heart 
been  in  it;  had  he  been  fired  with  an  ambition  to  do 
good,  by  elevating  a  poor,  unfortunate  race, — he  would 
have  exercised  more  patience  when  appealed  to  by 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


345 


Captain  Jack  in  February,  1870,  for  redress ;  he  would 
have  prevented  all  these  bloody  chapters  in  Indian 
history. 

Had  Agent  Knapp  promptly  interA^red,  tempering 
his  action  with  justice,  by  pimishing  Link-river  Jack 
for  annoying  the  Modocs,  then  the  ^Modoc  rebellion 
would  have  been  prevented. 

AVhen  Captain  Jack  appealed  to  Agent  Knapp,  the 
latter  refused  to  admit  Jack  within  his  oilice,  heard 
his  complaints  impatiently,  and  sent  him  away  with 
orders  to  "go  on  with  his  workj"  "that  he  would 
make  it  all  right." 

Jack  returned  to  his  home,  and,  naturally  enough, 
the  quari'cl  was  renewed.  The  Link-river  Khimaths, 
having  received  neither  repi'imand  nor  punishment, 
were  emboldened,  and  became  more  overbearing  than 
before. 

Captain  Jack  again  applied  for  protection  from 
further  insult,  and  this  time  Agent  Knapp  proposed 
to  change  the  location  of  the  Modocs  to  a  point  on 
Williamson  river,  a  few  miles  distant,  and  nearer  the 
agency. 

For  the  sake  of  peace,  and  in  obedience  to  orders, 
the  Modocs  changed  camp,  and  again  began  prepara- 
tion for  making  homes. 

This  brought  Klamaths  and  Modocs  in  contact,  and 
after  Jack  had  made  a  few  hundred  rails,  and  prepared 
a  few  hewn  logs  for  houses,  the  Klamaths  rehearsed 
the  Link-river  speeches  to  them, — taunting  them  with 
being  poor,  and  claim; ng  the  country,  though  patron- 
izingly saying,  "  Yc  u  can  stay  here;  but  it  is  our  coun- 
t,y"  "Your  horsef  f'an  eat  the  grass;  but  it  is  owr 
grass."     "You    can   catch  fish;    but  they  are  our 


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346 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


fish."  When  reminded  by  the  Modoes  of  the  treaty 
and  subsequent  peace-making,  the  Klamaths  replied: 
"Yes,  we  know  all  that."  "You  can  have  timber, 
grass,  and  fish;  but  don't  forget  they  are  ours." 
"We  will  let  you  stay."  "It  is  all  right."  Captain 
Jack  went  a  third  time  to  Agent  Knapp,  who  pro- 
posed to  move  tliem  again,  remarking  that  "  next  time 
he  would  stay  moved,^^  he  proposing  to  Jack  to  find  a 
new  location. 

Jack  went  to  search  for  one ;  but  whether  he  could 
not  find  a  location,  or  whether  the  constant  annoyance 
on  account  of  quarrels  and  removals  had  killed  his 
faith  both  in  agents  and  Indian  friendship,  makes  no 
difiierence.  He  returned  to  his  camp  on  WilUamson 
river,  called  his  people  together,  and  laid  the  whole 
matter  before  them. 

I  have  a  report  of  that  meeting  by  "  Charley,"  a 
brother  of  Toby  Riddle,  —  an  Indian  who  commands 
the  respect  of  all  who  know  him  personally.  Although 
this  report  was  made  several  months  afterwards,  I 
believe  it  to  be  in  the  main  correct.  The  substance 
was,  that  after  all  were  assembled,  including  the 
women  and  children  and  Link-river  people.  Captain 
Jack  stated  the  case,  mentioning  the  several  points  as 
already  recited,  and  saying  that  he  had  looked  at  all 
the  countiy,  but  did  not  find  any  that  he  liked  as  well 
as  Modoc  Point,  and  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to 
leave  the  Reservation  unless  he  could  have  that  place 
for  a  house. 

Bio,  a  sub-chief  of  the  Klamaths,  said,  "Tell  Knapp 
so."  Jack  replied  that  he  had  talked  to  Knapp 
already  three  times;  and  that  Knapp  had  no  heart  for 
him;  and  that  he  was  afraid  he  was  a  bad  man;  that 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


347 


"he  would  not  keep  the  superiritendent's  words;" 
"that  he  intended  to  leave  the  Reservation,"  and 
asked,  "Who  will  go  with  me?  Who  wants  to  stay 
with  a  man  who  has  no  heart  for  us?  " 

Then  ensued  a  protracted  discussion,  Charley 
Riddle  and  DuiFy  insisting  on  remaining.  The  dis- 
cussion was  a  stormy  one,  and  continued  until  a  late 
hour;  but  in  all  the  speeches  no  charge  of  stamng 
or  cheating  was  made. 

Finally  the  question  went  to  a  vote,  and  the  propo- 
sition to  leave  was  carried  by  a  large  majority.  It  may 
be  here  remarked  that  neither  of  the  Schonchins  was 
present,  Schonchin  John  being  at  that  time  loyal, 
and  opposed  to  the  rebellion ;  and  that  *  is  about  the 
only  thing  that  can  be  mentioned  in  his  favor,  except 
that  he  was  a  poor  shot,  as  /  can  testify. 

As  soon  as  the  vote  was  put  and  result  known, 
active  preparation  was  made  for  departure ;  in  fact,  the 
result  had  been  anticipated,  for  the  horses  were  all 
ready,  the  goods  packed,  and  daylight  next  morning- 
found  Jack  and  his  people  retracing  the  road  they  had 
gone  over  so  hopefully  eleven  weeks  before. 

I  will  not  spend  time  speculating  on  what  were  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  that  unfortunate  band  of 
people,  while  fleeing  stealthily  from  their  new  homes, 
but  will  simply  say,  that  the  little  cavalcade  carried 
with  them  elements  that  have  developed  into  hatred 
and  revenge,  which  has  since  shocked  the  moral  sense 
of  mankind  by  bloody  deeds  of  savage  warfare  that 
stand  out  on  the  country's  history  without  a  parallel. 

Returning  to  the  old  home  on  Lost  river,  and  feeling 
that  he  was  not  under  obligations  to  obey  law  any 
longer,  Captain  Jack  seems  to  hav^e  begun  where  he 


348 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


I)  ' 


I 


left  oflf;  his  young  men  and  women  visiting  Y-re-ka  and 
the  mining  camps  adjacent. 

A  few  weeks  later  Jack  went  to  Y-re-ka  himself, 
meeting  his  old  friends,  who  gave  him  welcome.  The 
Modoc  trade  may  have  had  something  to  do  with  the 
success  of  more  than  one  merchant  in  Y-re-ka.  The 
presence  of  the  Modocs  was  hailed  with  pleasure,  no 
doubt,  by  another  class  whose  social  status  in  society 
was  little  better  than  the  Modocs  themselves.  To 
these  people  the  Modocs  told  falsehoods  about  reser- 
vation life,  and  received  in  return  sympathy  for  their 
reputed  wrongs,  and  encouragement  in  repeating  the 
falsehoods.  In  this  v/ay  the  belief  that  they  were 
misused  by  Government  officials  has  obtained ;  an  un- 
just censure  has  been  publicly  aimed  against  worthy 
men.  What  more  natural  than  the  fact  that  the  disso- 
lute portion  of  the  Y-re-ka  people  should  espouse  the 
Modoc  cause,  and  that  the  better  part  of  society  should 
form  their  opinions  from  stories  circulated  by  friends 
of  Modoc  women? 

Mankind  are  prone  to  be  swayed  in  the  direction  of 
self-interest,  and,  when  encouraged,  any  poor  mortal 
may  tell  a  ialsehood  so  often  that  he  really  believes 
it  to  be  true.  That  Jack,  too,  confirmed  such  I'eports 
is  true,  because  in  the  sympathy  he  found  were 
mingled  words  of  justification.  Indeed,  a  plain,  truth- 
ful statement  of  the  facts,  as  they  were,  was  enough  to 
insure  him  sympathetic  advisers. 

It  is  true,  then,  when  Captain  Jack  returned  to 
Lost  river,  he  was  strengthened  and  confirmed  in  his 
ideas  of  justification,  and  his  determination  to  remain 
oflf  the  Reservation. 

!N^othing  of  grave  impoi*t  transpired  until  the  spring 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


349 


of  1871,  although  efforts  were  made  in  the  mean 
time  by  the  Indian  Department,  and  by  old  chief 
Schonchin,  to  induce  Captain  Jack  to  return. 

A  home  at  Yi.i-nax  was  proposed,  and  in  order  that 
no  reasonable  excuse  on  the  part  of  Captain  Jack 
could  be  found  on  account  of  Klamath  Indians,  and 
to  remove  every  obstacle,  the  Heservation  was  divided 
into  distinct  agencies;  the  western  portion  being  as- 
signed to  "  Klamath  "  Indians,  and  the  eastern  portion 
to  "Snakes,"  "  Walpahpas,"  and  "Modocs."  A  district 
of  country  was  set  apart  exclusively  for  the  latter. 
To  this  new  home  old  Schonchin  removed  with  liis 
people;  and  a  portion  of  Captain  Jack's  band, 
meanwhile,  also,  taking  up  homes.  Commissary  Ap- 
plegate,  at  one  time,  was  hopeful  that  the  whole 
Modoc  tribe  could  be  induced  to  come  to  the  new 
home  at  Yai-nax.  Captain  Jack  yisited  it,  and  talked 
seriously  of  settling  on  this  location;  but  while  he 
was  hesitating  as  to  what  he  should  do,  an  unfortunate 
tragedy  was  enacted,  so  natural  to  a  savage  state, 
which  completely  changed  the  current  of  events. 

Captain  Jack  employed  an  Indian  doctor  to  attend 
a  sick  child,  and  paid  the  fees  in  advance,  —  whicti, 
be  it  understood,  secured  from  the  doctor  a  guar- 
anty; and  in  case  of  failure  to  cure,  the  life  of  the 
Indian  doctor  was  in  the  hands  of  the  friends  of  the 
deceased.  The  child  died,  and  Captain  Jack  either 
killed  the  doctor,  or  ordered  him  to  be  killed. 

Under  the  old  Indian  laws  this  would  have  been  an 
end  of  the  affair;  but  under  the  new  order  of  things 
it  was  a  crime.  The  friends  of  the  murdered  man 
claimed  that  Captain  Jack  should  be  arrested  and 
punished  under  white  men's  laws  for  the  offence. 


350 


WIOW^lM  AND  WARPATH. 


An  unsuccessful  attempt  was  made  to  arrest  him. 
The  country  was  in  a  state  of  alarm;  it  was  evident 
that  war  would  be  the  result. 

Knowing  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  I  determined  to 
make  one  more  etTort  to  prevent  bloodshed.  Capt. 
Knapp  had  been  relieved  by  an  order  of  the  Army 
Department,  and  I  Avas  instructed  by  the  Indian  De- 
partment to  place  a  man  in  charge.  Accordingly, 
John  Meacham  was  sent  by  me  to  take  Capt.  Knapp's 
place.  About  this  time  I  received  a  letter  from  Hon. 
Jesse  Applegate,  in  regard  to  Modoc  matters.  His 
long  experience  as  a  frontier  man  gave  his  opinion 
weight.  He  represented  the  Modocs  with  whom  he 
had  met,  as  willing  to  meet  me  in  council  for  the  pur- 
pose of  settling  the  difficulties  then  existing.  He 
further  suggested,  that  the  only  sure  way  for  per- 
manent peace  was  to  give  them  a  small  Reservation 
at  the  mouth  of  Lost  river,  —  the  old  home  of  Captain 
Jack.  He,  being  a  practical  surveyor,  furnished  my 
office  with  a  small  map  of  the  proposed  Reser- 
vation. 

Realizing  how  much  depended  then  on  conciliatory 
measures,  and  having  confidence  in  Jesse  Applegate's 
judgment,  I  forwarded  his  letter  to  Gen.  Canby,  com- 
mander of  the  Department  of  the  Columbia,  with  a 
request  that  military  action  be  delayed  until  another 
effi)rt  could  be  made  to  settle  the  difficulties  then  ex- 
isting between  Captain  Jack's  band  of  Modocs  and 
the  Reservation  Indians. 

Gen.  Canby  issued  the  orders  desired,  and  the 
command  to  make  the  arrest  was  revoked. 

The  following  letter  of  Instruction  to  Commissary 
Meacham  will  explain  the   situation.     I  associated 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


351 


with  him  on  this  mission,  Ivan  D.  Applegate,  who 
was  then  in  charge  of  Yai-nax  station,  Klamath 
Reservation.  I  also  requested  Hon.  Jesse  Applegate 
to  go  with  them.  He  did  not  find  it  convenient, 
however,  and  the  Commissioners  named  proceeded 
under  the  following  letter  of  instruction,  Ivan  Ap- 
plegate being  notified  of  his  appointment  from  my 
office  in  Salem. 


id  the 


Office  SurERiMXENDENT  Indian  ApFAiits, 

Salem,  Oregon,  August  2,  1871. 

JoiEsr  jVIeacham,  Commissary,  Klamath  Agency: — 

I  wish  you  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  Modoc  country, 
and  make  one  more  effort  for  peace.  I  am  induced 
to  make  this  request  on  reading  a  long  and  intelligent 
letter  from  Hon.  Jesse  Applegate,  who  has  had  a 
talk  with  Captain  Jack  and  Black  Jim. 

It  appears  that  they  are  anxious  to  see  me,  and 
that  they  are  willing  to  talk  this  matter  over,  and  if 
possible  avoid  bloodshed.  It  is  impossible  for  me  to 
go  at  present,  on  account  of  "  Umatilla  Council." 

You  can  say  to  them  that  you  represent  me,  — my 
lieart,  my  wishes,  my  ivords;  and  that  I  have  au- 
thorized you  to  talk  for  me. 

You  are  familiar  with  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  and 
do  not  need  especial  instructions,  except  on  one  or 
two  points:  First,  that  I  will  try  to  get  a  small  re- 
serve for  them  in  their  country;  but  it  will  require 
some  time  to  bring  it  about,  and  until  such  time  I 
desire  them  to  go  on  to  any  unoccupied  lands  on 
Klamath  Reservation;  that  I  will  lay  the  whole 
matter  before  the  department  at  Washington,  and  put 
it  through,  if  possible;   that  you  will  protect  them 


352 


WIOWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


I 


1'  i| 


from  insult  or  imposition  from  either  Klamatlis, 
Snakes,  or  whites,  until  such  time  as  the  authorities 
shall  order  otherwise. 

I  mean  by  this  that  Captain  Jack  and  men  shall 
be  free  from  arrest  until  I  am  ordered  to  investigate 
the  affair,  and  that  he  shall,  if  ever  arrested,  have  the 
benefit  of  trial  by  his  peers  or  white  men,  under  civil 
law;  on  the  condition,  however,  that  he  and  his  people 
return  to  Klamath,  and  remain  there,  subject  to  the 
authority  of  the  Indian  Department;  that,  if  ordered 
to  trial,  he  will  surrender  himself  and  accomplices. 

You  can  say  to  him  that,  in  the  event  I  succeed  in 
getting  a  home  for  them  on  Lost  river,  they  will  be 
allowed  their  proportion  of  the  Klamath  and  Modoc 
treaty  funds,  with  the  privilege  of  the  mill  at  Klamath 
Agency  to" make  lumber,  etc.;  that,  if  I  fail  in  this, 
they  may  elect  to  go  into  the  Snake  country  beyond 
Camp  "Warner,  on  the  new  Reservation  to  be  laid 
out  there  this  fall. 

You  can  say  further  that,  while  I  do  not  approve 
of  their  conduct,  I  am  not  unmindful  of  their  bad 
treatment  by  Captain  Knapp  and  the  Klamaths, 
and  that  I  do  not  wish  to  have  them  destroyed;  but, 
if  they  refuse  to  accept  these  terms,  they  will  be 
under  military  control  and  subject  to  miUtary  laws 
and  commands. 

You  will  confer  with  I.  D.  Applegate,  and  also 
with  the  commander  at  Fort  Klamath.  I  will  request 
General  Canby  to  delay  any  order  now  out  for  the 
arrest  of  Jack  until  you  have  made  this  effort  to 
prevent  war. 

I  have  requested  I.  D.  Applegate  to  accompany 
you,  and  advise  with  you,  but  this  you  will  under- 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


353 


Drove 
bad 

laths, 
but, 
be 
laws 


11 


also 
jquest 


stand, — that  you  are  charged  with  the  mission.  I 
think  going  as  my  brother  may  give  you  more  influ- 
ence. 

The  Modocs  can  appreciate  that,  inasmuch  as 
the  Superintendent  could  not  come,  he  sent  his 
Irother. 

I  have  confidence  in  your  coolness  and  sense  of 
justice,  and,  with  I.  D.  Applegate  as  counsellor,  I 
hope  you  may  bring  this  unhappy  trouble  (so  heavy 
latlcu  with  death  to  many  persons)  to  a  peaceful 
solution. 

Do  not  take  more  than  two  or  three  persons  with 
you,  and,  whatever  the  result  of  "  the  talk,"  you  will 
be  faithful  and  true  to  yourself  and  the  Indians. 
Mr.  Jesse  Applegate  is  somewhere  out  in  that 
country.  He  is  a  safe  adviser.  I  have  no  doubt 
he  will  assist  you  in  this  hazardous  undertaking. 
You  will  report  the  result  of  this  visit  to  this  office 
promptly. 

In  the  event  that  the  military  commander  at  Fort 
Klamath  may  have  already  gone  after  Jack  and 
opened  hostilities,  I  do  not  wish  you  to  take  any 
desperate  chances. 

This  matter  I  leave  to  the  circumstances  that  may 
exist  on  receipt  of  this  letter.  I  see  clearly,  from 
Jesse  Applegate's  letter,  that  hostilities  are  imminent, 
and  that  many  good  men  may  lose  life  and  property 
unless  the  threatened  hostilities  are  prevented. 

I  have  never  seen  the  time  when  we  could  have 
done  otherwise  than  as  we  have;  but  I  fully  realize 
that  we  may  be  held  responsible  by  the  citizens  of 
that  country,  who  do  not  understand  the  power  and 
duties  of  the  Indian  Department. 


854 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


!i 


Go  on  this  mission  realizing  that  you  carry  in  your 
hand  the  Hvcs  and  happiness  of  many  persons,  and 
the  salvation  of  a  tribe  of  people  who  have  been  much 
wronged,  and  seldom,  if  ever,  understood. 
Very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A.  B.  MEACHAM, 

8upt.  Ind.  Affairs. 

Under  the  foregoing  letter  of  instructions  the  com- 
missioners appointed  went  into  the  Modoc  country, 
having  previously  arranged,  through  Indian  messen- 
gers, to  meet  Captain  Jack  and  five  or  six  of  his  men. 
No  agreement  was  made  in  reference  to  arms,  each 
arty  following  the  dictates  of  common  sense,  —  by 
oing  ready  for  peace,  but  prepared  for  war.  The 
commissioners  took  with  them  two  persons,  making 
up  a  party  of  four  well-anned  men.  It  is  humane 
and  Christian  to  carry  always  the  olive-branch  of 
peace,  but  it  is  unwise  to  depend  on  its  sanctity  for 
protection  when  dealing  with  enraged  savages.  Well 
for  Commissioner  Meacham  and  I.  D.  Applegate  that 
they  had  forethought  enough  to  go  prepared  to  defend 
themselves;  for,  had  they  not,  the  list  of  killed  in  the 
Modoc  war  would  have  read  somewhat  different  from 
its  present  roll  of  names.  There  is  no  doubt  that  at 
the  time  these  two  young  men  went  out  to  meet  these 
people,  "Schonchin  John,"  "Hooker  Jim,"  and  "Cur- 
ly-haired Doctor"  were  in  favor  of  assassinating 
them,  and  were  only  prevented  by  Captain  Jack  and 
Scarface  Charley.  The  information  comes  through 
Indian  lips,  but  I  believe  it  to  be  true. 

I  desire  the  reader  to  note  that  this  was  the  second 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATII. 


855 


time  assassination  was  proposed  by  these  people,  and 
each  time  frustrated  by  Captain  Jack;  and,  further, 
that  I  was  subsequently  infomied  each  time  of  their 
intended  acts  of  treachery  by  Tobey  Riddle,  through 
her  husband. 

The  council  was  held  in  a  wild,  desolate  region  of 
country,  many  miles  from  the  nearest  white  settle- 
ment. Captain  Jack  and  nearly  all  his  men  were 
present,  and  all  armed. 

It  should  be  understood  that  at  that  time,  as  after- 
ward in  the  Lava  Bed,  the  Modocs  were  suspicious  of 
Captain  Jack's  finnness  in  carrying  out  the  wishes  of 
his  people.  This  feeling  was  augmented  by  Sehon-chin 
John  who  was  ambitious  for  the  chieftainship,  and  con- 
stantly sought  to  implant  distrust  of  Jack's  fidelity  in 
the  minds  of  the  Modocs.  This  accounts  for  more  than 
the  number  agreed  upon  in  this,  and,  in  fact,  in  all 
subsequent  meetings.  Jack,  nevertheless,  was  the 
acknowledged  chief,  but  not  on  the  old  basis  of  theory 
of  absolute  power ;  he  was  only  a  representative  chief. 
That  he  had  not  absolute  control  over  them  was 
owing  to  his  own  act  of  teaching  them  the  republican 
idea  of  a  majority  ruling;  or  it  may  be  that  the  band 
had  demanded  this  concession  on  his  part. 

Kearly  all  of  them  had  associated  with  white  men, 
and  had  thereby  acquired  crude  ideas  of  American 
political  economy. 

It  wa,-;;  in  this  case  of  the  Modocs  a  curse,  instead 
of  a  blessing.  Had  Jack  exercised  the  old  despotic 
prerogative  of  Indian  chiefs,  no  war  would  have  en- 
sued, no  great  acts  of  treachery  woula  ever  have  been 
committed.  He  could  and  would  have  buried  in  the 
grave,  with  other  wrongs,  the  "Ben  Wright"  affair; 


fr 


356 


WIOWAM   AND   WAKPATII. 


i 


I 


and  while  he  would  have  clamored  for  liberty,  in  its 
common-sense  meanin*^,  he  would  have  held  his  peo- 
ple in  check  until  such  times  as  our  Government 
would  have  recognized  his  manhood  and  granted  him 
the  priceless  boon  of  a  citizen's  privileges. 

Captain  Jack  c.'.me  into  this  council  simply  as  a 
diplomatic  representative  chief,  and  was  not  at  liberty 
to  do  or  say  more  than  he  was  authorized  by  the  In- 
dians in  council.  He  set  forth  the  grievances  of  his 
people,  —  which  were  principally  against  the  Klamath 
Indians,  on  account  of  ^he  treatment  he  had  received 
while  on  the  Tleservation ;  and  against  the  Govern- 
ment, for  not  protecting  him  according  to  my  promise 
made  to  him  in  December,  1869,  —  arguing  that,  since 
the  Government  failed  to  keep  its  compact,  he  was 
released  from  his  obligation  to  obey  its  laws;  further, 
that  the  crime  of  which  he  was  charged  —  killing  the 
Indian  doctor  —  was  not  a  crime  under  the  Indian 
laws,  and  that  he  should  not  be  held  amenable  to  a 
law  that  was  not  his  law.  He  declared  that  he  could 
not  live  in  peace  with  the  Klamaths;  that  his  people 
had  made  up  their  minds  to  try  no  more,  since  they 
had  made  two  attempts. 

He  said  he  "  should  not  object  to  the  white  men 
settling  in  his  country,"  and  that  he  "would  keep  his 
people  away  from  the  settlements,  and  would  prevent 
any  trouble  between  white  men  and  his  Indians." 

The  commissioners  again  offered  him  a  home  on 
any  part  of  Klamath  Reservation  that  was  un- 
occupied. This  he  positively  declined.  He  was 
assured  of  protection,  but  he  referred  to  former 
promises  broken.  A  proposition  was  made,  for  him 
to  prevent  his  people  going  into  the  settlement  until 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATU. 


357 


the  whole  subject  could  be  submitted  to  the  authori- 
ties ut  Washington,  and  that  a  recommendation  would 
be  made  to  grant  him  a  small  home  at  the  mouth  of 
Lost  river.  A  rude  map  was  made,  showing  the 
proposed  Reservation.  AVith  this  he  was  satisfied, 
and  made  promises  of  keeping  his  people  away  until 
such  time  :is  an  answer  could  be  had. 

The  proposition  was  fully  explained,  and  he  was 
made  to  understand  the  uncertaiiiil^s  ah  to  when  a 
decision  would  be  made  in  this  matter;  he  agreeing 
that,  if  the  decision  was  adverse  to  granting  the  new 
home  on  Lost  river,  his  people  would  ^^'o  on  to  Kla- 
math, at  Yai-nax. 

"With  this  agreement,  well  understood,  the  council 
closed,  and  the  two  commissioners  reported  substan- 
tially as  detailed.  They  escaped  with  theii-  lives 
because  they  were  prepared  to  defend  them. 

Hostilities  were  averted  for  the  time  being,  and 
would  have  been  for  all  time  had  prudence  and  jus- 
tice been  exercised  by  those  who  held  the  power  to 
do  this  simple  act. 

Ignorance  of  the  true  state  of  the  case  cannot  be 
pleaded ;  the  whole  matter  was  laid  by  me  before 
the  authorities  at  Washington,  and  the  recommen- 
dation made  in  conformity  with  the  promise  to  the 
Modocs. 

In  my  official  report  for  1871  (see  Report  Com- 
mission Indian  Affairs,  pages  305  and  30G)  I  used 
the  following  language :  — 

"  The  Modocs  belong  by  treaty  to  Klamath  Agency, 
and  have  been  located  thereon ;  but,  owing  to  the  over- 
bearing disposition  of  the  Klamath  Indians,  they 
refuse  to  remain. 


358 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


"Unavailing  efforts  have  been  made  to  induce  them 
to  return ;  but  they  persist  in  occupying  their  original 
homes,  and,  in  fact,  set  up  claim  thereto.  During  the 
past  summer  they  have  been  a  source  of  annoyance 
and  alarm  to  the  white  settlers,  and  at  one  time  hos- 
tilities appeared  imminent. 

"  The  military  commander  at  Fort  Klamath  made  an 
unsuccessful  effort  to  arrest  a  few  of  the  head  men. 
Two  commissioners  were  sent  from  the  Indian  Depart- 
ment, and  a  temporary  arrangement  made  whereby 
hostilities  were  averted.  The  Modocs  cannot  be  made 
to  live  on  Klamath  Reservation,  on  account  of  the 
ancient  feuds  with  the  Klamaths.  They  are  willing 
to  locate  permanently  on  a  small  reservation  of  six 
miles  square,  lying  on  both  sides  of  the  Oregon  and 
California  line,  near  the  head  of  the  Tule  lake.  In 
equity  they  are  entitled  to  a  portion  of  the  Klamath 
and  Modoc  annuity  funds,  and  need  not  necessarily 
be  a  burden  to  the  Government;  but,  according 
to  the  ruling  of  Commissioner  Parker,  they  have 
forfeited  these  rights.  I  would  recommend  that  they 
be  allowed  a  small  reservation  at  the  place  indicated 
above,  and  also  a  pro-rata  division  of  the  Klamath 
and  Modoc  treaty  funds  for  employes  and  annu- 
ities; otherwise  they  will  doubtless  be  a  source  of 
constant  expense  to  the  Government,  and  great  an- 
noyance to  the  white  settlements  near  them.  Though 
they  may  be  somewhat  responsible  for  not  com- 
plying with  the  treaty,  yet,  to  those  familiar  with 
Indian  superstition,  it  is  not  strange  or  unreason- 
able that  great  charity  should  be  extended  to  these 
peojile." 

Gen.  Canby  was  also  informed  in  regard  to   the 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


359 


arrangement  made  by  the  commissioners;  the  order 
for  their  arrest  was  entirely  withdrawn. 

Thus  matters  were  in  abeyance  until  the  spring  of 
1872.  The  Modocs,  however,  growing  restless  and 
impatient  for  a  'decision,  began  to  annoy  the  white 
settlers  in  the  Lost-river  country,  doing  various  acts 
that  were  not  in  harmony  with  the  compact  made 
with  the  commissioners  in  August  preceding.  The 
white  men,  unwilling  to  endure  the  insolence  of  the 
Modocs,  petitioned  for  redress.  These  petitions  were 
addressed  to  the  Indian  Department,  and  to  the  Mili- 
tary Department,  also  to  the  ci\dl  authorities  of  the 
State  of  Oregon.  They  recited  the  acts  of  which  the 
Modocs  were  accused,  some  of  which  were,  "  that 
they  demanded  rents  for  the  lands  occupied  by  white 
men;  claiming  pay  for  the  use  of  the  stock  ranches; 
demanding  horses  and  cattle;  visitiug  the  houses  of 
settlers,  and,  in  the  absence  of  the  husbands,  order- 
ing the  wives  to  prepare  meals  for  them,  meanwhile 
throwing  themselves  on  the  beds  and  carpets,  and 
refusing  to  pay  for  the  meals  when  eaten;  feeding 
their  horses  with  the  gi'ain  of  the  settlers,  and,  in 
some  instances,  borrowing  horses  without  asking  the 
owners." 

To  the  credit  of  Captain  Jack  be  it  tola  that  he 
was  never  charged  with  any  of  these  outrageous  acts ; 
but  he  was  powerless  to  prevent  his  men  from  annoy- 
ing these  people  who  had  settled  the  country  at  the 
invitation  of  the  Government. 

This  state  of  affairs  could  lead  to  but  one  result^  — 
blood.  The  petitions  could  not  be  disregarded.  Ac- 
tion must  be  had,  and  that  without  delay.  General 
Canby  was  appealed  to;  having  rescinded  the  order 


860 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


I 


iil 


1, 


for  the  arrest  of  Captain  Jack  the  previous  summer, 
he  was  slow  to  issue  another  looking  to  the  same  end. 
He  believed,  as  I  did,  that  any  attempt  to  compel  the 
Modocs  to  return  to  KJamath  would  endanger  the 
peace  of  the  country.  Captain  Jack  had  failed  to 
keep  his  part  of  the  late  contract,  and  had  thereby 
forfeited  any  clabn  to  further  clemency. 


1 1 


1      ; 

I 


CHAPTEE    XXII. 

* 

U.   S.   SENATORS    COST   BLOOD  — FAIR   FIGHT  — OPEN  FIELD. 

While  matters  were  thus  in  suspense  a  change 
was  made  in  the  oflBce  of  Superintendent  of  Indian 
Affairs  for  Oregon,  T.  B.  Odeneal,  Esq.,  of  Oregon, 
succeeding  to  the  Superintendency.  He  was  a  lawyer 
of  ability,  but  had  a  limited  kaowledge  of  Indian 
character,  and  still  less  of  the  merits  and  demerits  of 
this  Modoc  question. 

When  appealed  to  he  laid  the  matter  before  his 
superior  in  office  at  Washington  City,  who  was  also 
a  new  incumbent,  and  had  perhaps  a  elight  knowledge 
of  the  Modoc  troubles. 

In  a  letter,  dated  April  11th,  1872,  he  instructed 
Superintendent  Odeneal  to  remove  the  Modocs  to 
Klamath  Reservation,  or  locate  them  on  a  new  home. 
In  reply,  Odeneal  suggested  that,  since  Klamath 
was  the  home  set  apart  for  them  in  common  with 
other  Indians,  it  was  the  proper  place  for  them,  and 
suggested  they  be  removed  thereto.  In  compliance 
with  this  recommendation,  he  was  instructed,  in  a 
letter  of  September  6th,  1872,  to  remove  the  Modocs 
to  the  Klamath  Reservation  j  peaceably  if  you  can, 
forcibly  if  you  must. 

Meanwhile  the  Modocs  were  kept  posted  by  the 
white  men,  who  sympathized  with  them,  of  the  pro- 
posed movements. 


362 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


Ir 


I 


%t 


Captain  Jack  and  his  men  sought  advice  of  Judges 
Roseborough  and  Steele,  of  Y-re-ka.  Both  these  gen- 
tlemen advised  them  not  to  resist  the  authority  of  the 
Government,  but  also  promised,  as  attorneys,  to  assist 
them  in  getting  lands,  provided  they  would  dissolve 
tribal  relations.  I  have  sought  diligently,  as  a  com- 
missioner, for  information  on  this  subject,  and  conclude 
that  nothing  further  was  ever  promised  by  either 
Roseborough  or  Steele.  The  hope  thus  begotten 
may  have  caused  the  Modocs  to  treat  with  less 
respect  the  officers  of  the  Government,  and  made 
them  more  insolent  toward  settlers;  but  nothing  of 
wilful  intent  can  be  charged  to  Steele  or  Rose- 
borough. 

It  is  in  evidence  that  Superintendent  Odeneal 
despatched  messengers  to  the  Modoc  camp  on  Lost 
river,  November  26th,  1872,  to  order  Captain  Jack 
and  his  people  to  go  on  to  the  Reservation,  with 
instruction  to  the  messengers  that,  in  the  event  of  the 
refjisal  of  the  Modocs  to  comply,  to  arrange  for  them 
to  meet  him  (Odeneal)  at  Linkville,  twenty-five  miles 
from  the  Modoc  camp. 

They  refused  compliance  with  the  order,  and  also 
refused  to  meet  Superintendent  Odeneal  at  Link 
river,  saying  substantially  "  that  they  did  not  want  to 
see  him  or  talk  with  him;  that  they  did  not  want  any 
white  man  to  tell  them  what  to  do;  that  their  friends 
and  advisers  were  in  Y-re-ka,  Cal.  They  tell  us  to 
stay  here,  and  we  intend  to  do  it,  and  will  not  go  on 
the  Reservation  (meaning  Klamath)  ;  that  they  were 
tired  of  talk,  and  were  done  talking."  If  credit 
were  given  to  these  declarations,  it  would  appear  that 
8ome  parties  at  Y-re-ka  were  culpable.  Careful  inves- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


363 


tigation  discloses  nothing  more  than  already  recited, 
so  far  as  Roseborough  and  Steele  were  concerned, 
but  would  seem  to  implicate  one  or  two  other  parties, 
both  of  whom  are  now  deceased;  but  even  then  no 
evidence  has  been  brought  forth  declaring  more  than 
sympathy  for  the  Modocs,  which  might  easily  be 
accounted  for  on  the  ground  of  personal  interest, 
dictating  friendship  toward  them  as  the  best  safe- 
guard for  life  and  property;  but  nothing  that  could  be 
construed  as  advising  resistance  to  legal  authority; 
and  their  statement  in  regard  to  advisers  in  Y-re-ka 
should  not  be  entitled  to  more  credit  than  Captain 
Jack's  subsequent  assertion  that  "  no  white  man  had 
ever  advised  him  to  stay  off  the  Reservation."  This 
latter  declaration  was  made  during  the  late  trials  at 
Klamath  by  the  "military  commission,"  at  a  time 
when  the  first  proposition  made  to  Superintendent 
Odeneal's  messengers  in  regard  to  Y-re-ka  advices 
would  have  secured  the  Modocs  then  on  trial  soiue 
consideration. 

The  only  thing  said  or  done  by  any  parties  in 
Y-re-ka  that  has  come  w^ell  authenticated,  that  could 
have  had  any  influence  with  the  Modocs  in  their 
replies  to  Odeneal's  message,  is  the  proposition  above 
referred  to  as  coming  from  Roseborough  and  Steele, 
to  assist  them  as  attorneys  to  secure  homes  when 
they  should  have  abandoned  tribal  relations,  paid 
taxes,  and  made  application  to  become  citizens.  The 
high  character  both  these  gentlemen  possess  for 
loyalty  to  the  Government,  and  for  integrity,  would 
preclude  the  idea  that  any  wrong  was  intended. 

On  receiving  Captain  Jack's  insolent  reply  to  his 
message.   Superintendent  Odeneal  made  application 


ill 


364 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


to  the  military  commander  at  Fort  Klamath  for  a  force 
to  "compel  said  Indians  (Modocs)  to  go  upon  the 
Klamath  Reservation ;  "  reciting  the  following  words 
from  the  honorable  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs: 
"  You  are  hereby  directed  to  remove  the  Modoc  In- 
dians to  Klamath  Reservation ;  i^eaceahly  if  you  pos- 
sibly can,  but  forcibly  if  you  must,"  and  saying :  "  I 
transfer  the  whole  matter  to  your  department  without 
assuming  to  dictate  the  course  you  shall  pursue  in 
executing  the  order  aforesaid ;  trusting,  however,  that 
you  may  accomplish  the  object  desired  without  the 
shedding  of  blood,  if  possible  to  avoid  it." 
He  received  the  following  reply :  — 

Head-quaktebs,  Fobt  Klamath,  November  28th,  1872. 

Sir  :  —  In  compliance  with  your  written  request  of 
yesterday,  I  will  state  that  Captain  Jackson  will 
leave  this  post  about  noon  to-day,  with  about  thirty 
men;  will  be  at  Link  river  to-night,  and  I  hope 
before  morning  at  Captain  Jack's  camp. 
I  am,  sir,  very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

JOHN  gree:n^, 

Major  First  Cavalry  Commanding  Post. 

Mb.  T.  B.  Odeneal,  Superintendent  Indian  Affairs. 


These  movements  were  intended  to  be  made  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  the  Modocs.  Superintendent 
Odeneal  sent  messengers  to  warn  the  settlers  of  the 
proposed  forcible  expeHment.  Complaint  has  justly 
been  made  that  there  were  several  parties  unwarned. 

The  Modocs  had  oue  especial  friend  in  whom  they 


WIGWAM   AND  WABPATH. 


365 


relied  for  advice  and  warning.  This  man's  name  was 
Miller. 

They  called  on  him  the  day  previous  to  Major 
Jackson's  appearance  at  the  Modoc  camp,  and  he,  be- 
ing ignorant  of  the  movement  told  them,  that  "no 
soldiers  were  coming."  Some  twelve  settlers  were 
unwarned,  who  lost  their  lives  thereby. 

Neglect  on  the  part  of  those  having  the  manage- 
ment of  this  matter  resulted  in  much  blood. 

"When  Major  Jackson  was  en  route  to  the  Modoc 
camp,  some  twenty-five  white  men  from  Link^^lle  and 
the  surrounding  country  assembled  and  proposed  to 
accompany  the  expedition. 

It  has  been  said  that  they  went  for  the  purpose  of 
"  seeing  Major  Jackson  and  his  thirty-five  men  get 
licked."  At  all  events  they  were  armed  with  Henry 
rifles  and  revolvers. 

Frontier  men  are  fond  of  sport,  and  the  more  it  is 
embellished  with  danger  the  more  captivating  it  is  to 
tliem.  I  do  not  say  this  with  disrespect  to  frontier 
men,  but  simply  state  a  fact  that  is  not  generally 
understood. 

While  it  is  true  th.^t  they  7J?ay  with  dangerous 
weapons  as  carelessly  as  a  city  dandy  does  with  a 
switch  cane  or  ivory  opera-glass,  they  are,  neverthe- 
less, as  a  class,  true,  honest,  enterprising,  great 
brave-hearted  men,  who  would  scorn  to  do  a  mean 
thing. 

They  have  among  them  men  who  are  iiTCsponsiblc 
vagabonds,  reckless  fellows  who  are  driven  from  the 
cities  and  towns  on  account  of  their  crimes.  These 
latter  characters  beget  strife  among  the  people,  and 
when  truth  comes  to  the  front  and  speaks   out,  it 


ii 


366 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


I 


declares  that  they  are  the  sole  cause  of  any  difficulty 
between  good  white  men  and  Indians.  They  are  the 
first  to  volunteer  on  occasions  like  this.  As  a  class 
they  are  brave,  fearless,  desperate,  having  little  re- 
gard for  human  life,  caring  not  how  much  bad  blood 
they  evoke.  But  the  idea  that  seems  to  prevail  with 
eastern  people,  that  all  frontier  men  are  rough,  bad 
men,  is  outrageously  false  in  the  premises.  Better 
men,  braver  men,  more  honorable,  more  enterprising 
men  cannot  be  found  on  this  continent  than  thousands 
who  ride  on  the  swelling  breakers  of  advancing  emi- 
gration. A  moment's  consultation  with  justice  and 
right  would  compel  the  law-makers,  book-writers  and 
newspaper  reporters,  instead  of  constant,  sweeping 
insinuations  against  frontier  men,  to  say  encouraging 
words  in  their  behalf,  and  to  offer  them  every  facility 
to  successfully  plant  the  foundations  of  prosperous 
society  on  the  verges  of  American  civilization.  Honor 
to  whom  honoi*  is  due. 

The  party  of  citizens  who  went  down  Lost  river  on 
the  morning  of  the  27th  of  November,  1872,  were,  with 
one  or  two  exceptions,  good,  responsible  settlers.  Their 
motives  were  honorable,  their  intentions  were  good; 
and  if  serious  results  came  out  of  the  fact  of  their 
presence  it  was  not  because  they  as  a  party  were 
"  bloodthirsty   desperadoes." 

They  went  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and 
took  a  commanding  position  on  a  bluff  overlooking 
the  Modoc  camp ;  which  was  located  on  the  very  spot 
where  my  party  met  Captain  Jack  in  1869. 

The  Modoc  camp  was  divided  by  the  river,  Cap- 
tain Jack,  and  fourteen  men  with  their  families,  occu- 
pying the  west  bank,  where  the  plain  slopes  gradually 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


367 


down  to  the  water's  edge;   the  background   being 
covered  with  a  growth  of  sage  brush. 

With  Captain  Jack  was  "  Sclionchin  John"  so 
named  from  being  a  younger  brother  of  the  "  Old 
chief  Schonges;"  "  Scar-face  Charley,"  so  named  on 
account  of  a  scar  on  his  face;  ^^  Black  Jim."  so  named 
on  account  of  his  dark  color;  "  One-eyed  Mose"  so 
called  on  account  of  defect  in  one  eye;  "  Watchman" 
who  was  killed  in  the  first  battle;  ^^Humpty  Joe"  ^^Big 
Ike,"  ''Old  Tails,"  ''Old  Tails'  hoy,"  "Old  Long- 
face,"  and  four  others. 

On  the  east  side  of  the  river  was  the  "  Curly- 
haired  Doctor;  "  "Boston  Charley,"  named  on  account 
of  his  light  color;  "Hooker  Jim"  had  lived  with  old 
man  Hooker;  "  Slolax,"  and  ten  others,  with  theu* 
families. 

Major  Jackson,  with  his  force,  arrived  at  Jack's 
camp  at  about  daybreak  on  the  morning  of  the  30th 
]^ovember,  1872.  At  the  same  time  the  citizen  party 
arrived  opposite  and  near  the  camp  of  the  Curly- 
haired  Doctor. 

The  Modocs  were  taken  by  surprise,  —  although 
they  had  reason  to  expect  the  soldiers  would  come 
within  a  few  days. 

They  have  since  asserted  that  Odeneal's  messen- 
gers had  agreed  to  come  again  before  bringing 
soldiers ;  and,  if  possible,  bring  Supt.  Odeneal  with 
them. 

It  was  a  mistake  that  he  did  not  go  in  person,  — 
either  with  the  messengers  in  the  first  instance  or 
after  their  return  to  Linkville. 

He  might  not  have  accomplished  any  good,  but  he 
would  have  prevented  severe  criticism,  and  much 


ii 


I 


368 


WIOWAM  AND  WABPATn. 


blame  that  was  laid  at  his  door;  inasmuch  as  Jack 
subsequently  asserted  "that  he  would  not  have  re- 
sisted, had  Odeneal  come  himself  to  him  and  made 
everything  plain."  Again,  they  had  relied  on  Miller 
for  warning;  hence  his  death. 

When  Maj.  Jackson  arrived  at  the  camp,  and  while 
he  was  placing  his  men  in  position,  an  Indian,  who 
was  out  hunting,  made  the  discovery  of  Jackson's 
presence,  and  either  accidentally,  or  puriiosely,  dis- 
charged his  gun.  This  called  the  Indians  to  their 
feet,  and  they  instantly  grasped  their  arms  on  seeing 
themselves  so  nearly  surrounded  by  soldiers. 

Maj.  Jackson  quietly  commanded  the  Modocs  to 
lay  down  their  arms.  Captain  Jack  complied,  and 
told  his  men  to  obey  the  order  of  Maj.  Jackson. 

A  parley  ensued  of  half  an  hour.  Captain  Jack 
pleading  for  Jackson  to  withdraw  his  men,  while  the 
major  was  explaining  his  order,  and  assuring  the  Mo- 
docs that  ample  preparation  had  been  made  for  them 
at  Yai-nax.  The  whole  affair  seemed  to  be  settled 
satisfactorily,  and  I.  D.  Applegate,  who  was  with 
Maj.  Jackson,  went  down  to  the  banks  of  the  river 
and  told  One-armed  Brown,  the  regular  messenger  of 
the  Indian  Department,  who  was  with  the  citizen 
party  on  the  east  side,  that  "  everything  was  settled." 
Brown  mounted  his  horse,  and  started  to  make  known 
the  good  news  to  Supt.  Odeneal,  who  was  awaiting 
the  result  at  Linkville. 

All  the  Modocs  on  the  west  side  of  the  river  had 
laid  down  their  arms,  except  Scar-face  Charley,  who 
was  swearing  and  making  threats.  Maj.  Jackson 
commanded  him,  "  Put  down  your  gun."  Scar  -face 
refused;    the  major  ordered  Lieut.  Boutelle  to  dis- 


ses: 


ta 


;: 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


3G9 


arm  him,  —  who,  on  advancing  to  execute  the  order, 
repeated  it  in  emphatic  words,  not  in  harmony  with 
savage  notions  of  decorum  and  decency.  "  Scarface  " 
was  enraged  at  the  vile  epithets  appHed  to  him,  and 
perhaps  remembered  just  then  that  he  had  once  seen, 
from  a  chapparel  thicket,  a  sight  that  had  haunted 
him  from  his  childhood,  namely,  nothing  less  than 
armed  white  men  chasing  his  father  with  a  lasso  and 
catching  him.  He  saw  them  hang  him  without  a 
trial,  or  even  any  proof  that  he  was  guilty  of  any  crime. 
At  all  events,  he  drew  his  jDistol,  and,  sa^'ing  that 
he  "  would  kill  one  white  man,"  discharged  it  at  the 
advancing  officer;  but  so  nearly  simultaneous  with 
Boutclle's  pistol,  that  even  the  latter  does  not  know 
who  fired  first.  This  was  the  opening  gun  of  the 
Modoc  war;  the  beginning  of  what  ended  on  the 
gallows  on  the  third  of  ]tfovember,  1873. 

Without  stopping  now  to  call  up  the  intervening 
pictures,  let  us  see  how  the  battle  went.  Very  soon 
the  entire  force  of  soldiers  was  firing  into  the  Indian 
camps,  and  the  fourteen  Indian  men  were  fighting 
back  with  muzzle-loading  rifles. 

The  battle  lasted  three  hours;  the  Indians,  having 
taken  cover  of  the  sage  brush,  finally  withdrew,  car- 
rying with  them  the  watchman  who  was  killed,  and 
escaping  with  all  their  women  and  children. 

Maj.  Jackson  lost  ten  killed  and  five  wounded; 
and  on  the  reappearance  of  the  Indians,  a  few  hours 
later,  drew  ofi"  his  forces,  leaving  the  Modocs  in  pos- 
session of  tne  battle-field. 

While  all  this  was  enacting  on  the  west  bank  of 
Lost  river,  let  us  see  how  the  boys  who  went  down  to 
**  take  a  look  "  got  along  as  spectators.    Mr.  Brown, 


ii 


370 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


hearing  the  report  of  arms,  returned  just  in  time  to 
take  an  active  part  in  a  perfbnnance  that  was  not  in 
the  programme  of  fun  as  laid  out  in  the  early  morn- 
ing. 

The  citizens  and  Modocs  on  the  east  side  could  not 
stand  the  pressure,  —  looking  on  and  seeing  a  fair 
fight,  within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards,  without  tak- 
ing a  part.  The  Modocs  caught  up  their  guns  and 
rushed  down  to  the  river,  intending  to  reinforce  Captain 
Jack.  The  citizens  sought  to  prevent  them  getting 
into  their  canoes;  and,  somelioio,  they  became  very 
much  interested  in  matters  nearer  home  than  Maj. 
Jackson's  fight. 

Who  began  the  battle  on  the  east  side  is  a  question 
of  doubt,  —  both  parties  denying  it;  but  a  lively  fight 
was  the  result,  and  the  citizens  drew  off,  leaving  tlwce 
or  four  dead  friends  on  the  ground  and  —  and  —  one 
dead  squaw,  with  an  infant  corpse  in  her  arms. 

It  is  not  in  evidence  who  was  victor,  but  there  is 
the  record.  The  majoi*  dispatched  a  messenger  for 
reinforcements,  who  run  the  gauntlet  of  Indian  bul- 
lets, and  barely  escaped. 

From  Indian  lips  I  learn  that  in  the  first  battle  of 
which  I  have  spoken.  Captain  Jack  did  not  fire  a  shot 
himself,  though  he  directed  the  fight. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  messenger  being  sent  off  by 
Maj.  Jackson,  Captain  Jack,  who  was  secreted  in  the 
sage  brush,  ran  a*\er  .'lim  and  fired  one  or  two  shots. 

Let  us  look  now  to  the  Modocs  wiLh  Captain  Jack. 
They  did  not  go  on  the  warpath,  but  hastened  to 
gather  up  their  women  and  horses,  and  retired  to  the 
Lava  Bed. 

Scarface  Charley  remained  behind,  for  a  purpose 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


371 


)se 


tlint  can  scarcely  be  credited.  Those  who  doul)t  any 
real  genuine  manhood  among  Indians  may  wonder 
when  I  declare  that  he  remained  to  warn  white  men 
of  the  danger  threatening  them.  In  two  instances  he 
saw  white  men,  who  were  his  personal  friends,  going, 
as  he  !:new,  into  certain  death.  In  both  instances 
he  laid  hold  of  the  bridle-reins  of  the  riders'  horses 
and  turned  them  around,  and,  pointing  to  the  road 
whence  they  carnc,  bade  them  "ride  for  life." 

They  lost  no  time  in  heeding  the  warning  given, 
and  also  in  notifying  the  settlers  en  route  of  the  ex- 
istence of  open  hostilities. 

By  this  means  John  A.  Fairchild  was  notified  of 
the  dangers  that  surrounded  him  and  his  family. 

Mr.  Fairchild's  name  has  become  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  Modoc  war;  indeed,  he  played  some 
of  the  thrilling  parts  of  this  tragic  drama.  He  is  a 
man  of  forty  years  of  age,  a  native  of  Mississippi; 
went  West  when  a  boy,  and  engaged  in  mining.  In 
the  course  of  time  he  became  a  large  stock-raiser, 
and  went,  ten  years  ago,  with  his  herds  of  cattle  and 
horses,  into  the  Modoc  country. 

lie  soon  learned  a  lesson  that  our  Government  has 
not,  viz.,  that  it  is  cheaper  to  feed  Indians  than  to 
fight  them.  Soon  after  his  arrival  he  arranged  a 
treaty  with  the  Modocs,  paying  them  a  small  com- 
pensation for  the  use  of  the  country  for  stock  uses. 
During  the  time,  he  has  made  the  personal  acquaint- 
ance of  nearly  every  Indian  of  Captain  Jack's  band. 

His  home  is  situated  on  Hot  Creek,  near  its  rise  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains  that  divide  the  Modoc  from 
the  Shasta  country. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  head-quarters  of  the 


M: 


m 

ft':  V 


i. 


372 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


Peace  Commission  was  at  Fairchild's  ranch  during 
the  first  days  of  its  organization.  This  was  also  the 
originrl  home  of  a  part  of  Jack's  band. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  late  Modoc  war  some 
fourteen  warriors  and  their  families  were  living  near 
Mr.  Fairchild's  house;  by  his  management  of  them 
they  were  prevented  from  joining  Captain  Jack  for 
several  days.  He,  together  with  Mr.  Press  Dorris, 
who  lives  near  him,  and  is  also  a  stock-raiser,  called 
together  these  fom'teen  men,  including  "Bogus  Char- 
ley" (who  gets  his  name  from  his  birthplace  on 
Bogus  creek),  "Shacknasty  Jim"  (so  named  from 
his  mother) ,  "  Steamboat  Frank  "  (so  called  in  honor 
of  his  squaw,  whose  name  was  Steamboat,  because 
of  her  great  size  and  her  habit  of  puffing  and  blowing 
like  the  aforesaid  vessel),  Ellen's  man  George,  and 
ten  others,  —  who  all  distinguished  themselves  in  the 
war,  —  and  started  with  them  and  their  families  to 
Klamath  lleservation.  They  notified  Agent  Dyer,  of 
Klamath,  of  their  coming,  and  requested  him  to  meet 
them  and  take  charge  of  the  Indians. 

Dyer  responded,  and,  hastening  to  meet  them  on  Kla- 
math river,  passed  through  Linkville  en  route.  While 
there  he  heard  intimations  of  the  danger  of  passing 
through  the  town  with  the  above-named  Mt^docs. 

The  news  of  the  battle  had  reached  Linkville,  and 
the  people  were  aroused  to  madness  at  the  sight  of 
the  mangled  bodies  of  the  soldiers  and  citizens  that 
had  been  brought  in.  It  is  not  strange  that  such 
sights  should  call  out  a  demand  for  vengeance ;  that 
the  citizens,  feeling  outraged,  should  make  threats. 

It  is  certain  that  a  party  left  Linkville  before  Agent 
Dyer   arrived,   and   went   in   the   direction   of   Bob 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


373 


Whittle's,  where  Fairehild  and  Dorris  were  guarding 
the  Hot  Creek  Modocs,  now  so  anxious  to  reach  the 
Reservation  that  they  might  escape  any  kind  of 
entanglement  with  the  rebels. 

The  party  found  Fairehild  and  Dorris  fully  pre- 
pared to  protect  those  under  their  charge,  and  no 
attack  was  made,  whatever  may  have  been  the  first 
intention.  On  Mr.  Dyer's  arrival  at  this  time,  he 
stated  his  fears  to  Fairehild  and  Dorris,  v>hich  the 
Indians  overhearing,  stampeded,  and  Avent  directly  to 
the  Lava  Beds,  thus  adding  fourteen  warriors  to  Cap- 
tain Jack's  forces.  All  of  them  were  brave  men,  and 
bad  men,  too,  as  the  sequel  will  show.  The  fright 
they  had  received  at  Bob  Whittle's  appears  to  have 
made  their  even  more  anxious  for  war  than  those  who 
had  been  engaged  in  the  Lost-river  battle,  on  the  30th 
of  ^November,  1872. 

Indian  proof  is  abundant  that  Captain  Jack,  in 
anticipation  of  the  coming  of  the  soldiers,  had  ad- 
vised his  men  to  surrender  rather  than  fight;  but, 
even  if  forced  io  resist,  in  no  event  to  attack  cit- 
izens, saying,  "  If  we  must,  we  will  fight  soldiers, 
not  white  men,"  meaning  citizens. 

It  is  a  fact  that,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  he 
sought  to  avoid  conflict.  The  Curly-haired  Doctor 
was  eager  for  blood  —  or,  at  all  events,  he  was  rebel- 
lious, and  constantly  advised  resistance  to  the  author- 
ity of  the  Government. 

His  interference  in  the  council  of  December,  1869, 
referred  to  in  a  former  chapter,  and  his  sanction  to 
the  proposition  to  murder  our  party  at  that  time,  and 
the  subsequent  proposal  to  assassinate  the  Commis- 
sioners sent  out  in  August,  1871,  to  arrange  matters 


ife'i 


I 


I 


374 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


with  tliein,  aiJ   stand   against  him  previous  to  the 
opening  of  the  war. 

But  to  return  to  the  battle  of  Lost  river.  After  a 
eharp*  fight,  the  citizens  having  withdrawn  to  Dennis 
Crawley's  house,  the  Modoc  braves  assembled,  and, 
through  the  advice  of  Hooker  Jim,  the  Curly-haired 
Doctor,  with  Steamboat  Frank  and  three  or  four 
others,  started  on  a  mission  of  vengeance. 

The  acts  of  savage  butchery  committed  by  them 
are  well  known  to  the  world,  —  how  they  went  to  Mr. 
Boddy's  house  with  their  garments  covered  with  the 
life-blood  of  their  victims,  and,  taunting  the  women, 
boasted  of  their  heroism,  saying,  "This  is  Boddy's 
blood ;  but  we  are  Modocs ;  we  do  not  kill  women 
and  children.  You  will  find  Boddy  in  the  w^oods. 
We  will  not  hurt  you." 

Thus  from  house  to  house  they  went,  after  killing 
the  husbands  and  ftithers,  until  they  had  s!  .ughtered 
thirteen  persons,  —  Brotherton,  Schiere,  Miller,  and 
others,  including  one  small  boy,  who  resisted  them. 

The  reign  of  terror  was  complete.  Who  shall 
ever  find  words  to  describe  the  horror  of  the  night 
following  this  treacherous  butchery?  The  women 
left  tlieir  homes  to  hunt  for  their  mTirdered  friends. 
In  one  instance,  the  presence  of  a  team  without  a 
driver  gave  the  awful  tidings. 

Leaving  their  dead,  through  the  long  dark  night 
that  followed,  they  made  their  way  through  the  track- 
less sage-brush  plains  to  the  nearest  settlement.  Witii 
these  people  the  Modocs  had  been  on  friendly  terms, 
and  had  never  had  any  misunderstandings  with  the 
Indians.  On  the  contrary,  they  had  shown  by  many 
acts  of  kindness  their  good  will.     They  were  person- 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


375 


ally  acquainted  with  the  men  who  composed  the 
murderous  gang.  This  was  especially  the  case  with 
Mr.  Miller;  he  had  been  their  steadfast  friend  for  years, 
and  had  furnished  them  provisions  and  ammunition 
but  a  few  days  previously,  and  had  further  interested 
himself  in  their  behalf,  in  conjunction  with  Esquire 
Steele  of  Y-re-ka,  in  securing  to  them  the  right  to  take 
up  lands  in  common  with  other  people. 

The  murder  of  Miller  seems  the  more  inhuman  when 
it  is  remembered  that  he  was  killed  by  Hooker  Jim. 
The  latter  declares  that  he  did  not  know  that  he  was 
shooting  at  Miller.  Otherwise  he  would  not  have 
committed  the  treacherous  deed.  Miller  had  been  on 
especial  good  terms  with  this  desperado. 

With  my  knowledge  of  Indian  character,  I  am  of 
the  opinion  that  Hooker  Jim  designedly  killed  Mr. 
Miller,  because  he  believed  that  the  latter  had  purposely 
withheld  from  the  Modocs  the  movement  of  Major 
Jackson. 

Loaded  witli  plunder,  and  mounted  on  the  horses 
they  had  captured,  these  bloodthirsty  savages  made 
their  way  around  the  east  side  of  Tule  lake ;  meeting 
Captain  Jack  and  his  warriors  in  the  Lava  Bed.  I  am 
indebted  to  the  Modocs  themselves  for  many  items  of 
importance  in  this  connection.  I  give  them  for  what 
they  are  worth,  with  the  authority  announced.  Some  of 
them  are  doubtless  correct,  according  to  the  authority 
quoted. 

On  the  arrival  in  the  Lava  Bed,  Captain  Jack 
denounced  the  murderers  for  their  bloody  work,  and 
particularly  for  the  killing  of  Mr.  Miller;  he  then 
declared  that  the  men  who  committed  this  outrageous 
crime  should  be  surrendered  to  the  white  men  for  tiial ; 


m 


a 
I 


376 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


Ill 


that  a  great  mistake  had  been  made;  and  that  unless 
these  men  were  given  up,  the  whole  band  would  be 
lost.  The  councils  held  were  noisy  and  turbulent, 
threatening  strife  and  bloodshed.  While  this  mat- 
ter was  under  discussion,  the  Hot-Creek  Indians, 
who  had  etampcded  from  "Whittle's  Ferry,  while  they 
were  en  route  to  Klamath  i^gency,  arrived  in  the 
Lava  Bed,  adding  fourteen  braves  to  the  little  band  of 
desperadoes.  The  Hot-Creek  Mod ocs,  having  become 
demoralized  by  the  threats  they  had  overheard  made 
against  them,  and  being  influenced  by  the  Curly-haired 
Doctor's  promise  of  makirg  medicine  to  protect  them, 
were  ready  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  murderers. 
The  whole  number  of  braves  at  this  time  was  fifty- 
three,  including  the  chief  himself.  Thus,  when  the 
discussion  was  ended  and  the  question  was  submitted 
to  a  vote,  a  large  majority  was  opposed  to  the  sur- 
render of  the  Lost-river  murderers. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


!ii 


MOURNING  EMBLEMS  AND   MILITARY  POMP. 

Leaving  the  Modocs  to  wrangle  over  their  troubles, 
suppose  we  Hsten  now  to  the  wails  of  anguish  and 
grief  that  burdened  the  air  of  the  Lost-river  country, 
and  especially  at  Linkville,  when  the  mutilated  bodies 
of  the  slain  citizens  were  brought  in  for  interment. 

When  the  news  of  the  Lost-river  battle  had  spread 
over  the  sparsely-settled  country,  a  feeling  of  terror 
pervaded  the  hearts  of  the  people ;  but  when,  on  the 
following  morning,  the  grief-stricken,  heart-broken 
Mrs.  Boddy,  Mrs.  Schiere  and  Mrs.  Brotherton,  ar- 
rived at  Linkville,  after  a  long  night  of  horrors,  the 
excitement  became  intense.  Armed  parties,  taking 
with  them  wagons,  repaired  to  the  scene  of  this  awful 
tragedy. 

Let  those  whose  lives  are  spent  where  they  are  pro- 
tected by  the  strong  arm  of  law,  go  with  me  for  a  day, 
while  we  hunt  up  the  victims  of  this  wholesale  mur- 
der. 

Perhaps,  if  we  are  honest,  and  our  hearts  are  open 
to  conviction  of  truth,  and  we  are  actuated  by  the 
impulses  of  Christian  sympathy,  wc  may  suspend  our 
charitable  emotions  for  the  "  noble  red  man,"  by  the 
time  we  hear  the  dull  thud  of  the  clods  at  Linkville 
cemetery  mingle  with  the  sobs  and  shrieks  of  the 
widows  and  orphans. 

From  one  who  was  with  a  party  who  went  out  on 


I 


m  i 


t      9 


378 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


this  sorrowful  mission,  I  learned  something  of  the 
scenes  that  met  them. 

On  arriving  at  the  grove  of  timber  where  Brother- 
ton  was  killed,  they  found  his  body  lying  stark  and 
cold,  with  his  glassy  eyes  wide  open.  He  had  been 
pierced  by  four  Modoc  bullets.  Near  him  was  found 
his  axe,  with  the  handle  painted  with  his  own  blood. 
Then  anothei-  was  found  on  a  wagon,  lying  across  the 
coupling  poles,  with  his  face  downwards.  He,  too, 
was  stripped  of  his  clothing. 

Another  was  found  a  few  rods  from  his  work,  with 
his  bowels  beside  him,  and  his  heart  taken  from  his 
body,  and  hacked  to  pieces.  This  was  the  work  of 
Hooker  Jim. 

Thus  the  party  went  on  from  one  to  another,  until 
thirteen  bodies  were  found.  Some  of  them  were  off 
from  roads,  where  they  had  evidently  run  in  their 
attempts  to  escape. 

While  the  kind-hearted  settlers  were  performing 
this  sad  duty,  they  were  continually  on  the  lookout 
for  an  attack.  Let  us  follow  this  heavily-laden  train 
of  wagons,  and  be  with  them  when  they  arrive  at 
Linkvillc.  Can  human  language  depict  the  agony 
of  that  hour?  AVe  may  tell  of  the  outburst  of  grief, 
when  the  widows  gather  around  that  solemn  train, 
preparing  to  unload  its  ghastly  freight,  and  how,  with 
frantic  movements,  they  threw  themselves  on  the 
remains  of  husband,  brother  and  father.  But  Ave  may 
not  tell  of  the  grief  that  overwhelmed  their  hearts  in 
that  darkest  hour,  when  beholding  loved  ones  man- 
gled and  mutilated  by  the  hands  that  had  so  often 
received  gifts  from"  them,  now  so  stiff  and  cold  in 
death. 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


379 


There  are  moments  in  life  when  the  great  fountains 
seem  broken  up  as  if  by  some  terrific  explosion,  until 
even  the  very  streams  that  otherwise  would  flow  out 
are  dried  up. 

Oh,  how  dark  the  world  becomes  to  the  wife  and 
mother  when  the  sunlights  of  life  go  out,  and  they 
stand  amid  the  gloom,  unable  to  recognize  the  hand 
of  our  heavenly  Father ! 

Slowly  and  sadly  the  sorrowing  friends  start  up 
the  hill  with  the  remains  of  Boddy  and  Schiere, 
while  the  bereaved  and  heart-broken  widows  follow 
the  sad  funeral  pageant. 

How  can  we  bear  to  hear  the  cry  of  anguish  that 
parts  their  lips  when  the  first  clod  of  earth  falls,  with 
sepulchral  noise,  on  the  coffin  lids  that  cover  the  faces 
of  their  dead  forever  I 

My  humane,  kind-hearted  reader,  who  has  a  soul 
overflowing  with  kindness  that  goes  out  for  "  Lo !  the 
poor  Indian,"  look  on  this  scene  a  moment,  and  in 
your  mind  exchange  your  happy  home  for  a  cabin  on 
the  frontier  wilds,  where  you  meet  these  Indian 
people,  and  where,  from  the  fulness  of  a  great  heart 


overflowing 


with    "good  will   to  man,"    you   have 


uttered  only  kind  words,  while  you  shared  your 
homely  fare  with  them  in  sympathy  for  their  low 
estate.  Remember  how  often  you  have  almost  ruined 
your  own  family  that  you  might  in  part  compensate 
them  for  their  lost  homes;  how  you  have  dropped 
from  your  hands  your  own  duties  as  a  wife  or  mother 
that  you  might  teach  these  dark,  sad-eyed  savage 
women  the  little  art  of  housewiferv.  Think  how 
many  hours  you  have  labored  teaching  them  the 
ways  of  civil  life  in  dress  and  manners;  while  your 


380 


WI0WA5I   AND   WARPATH. 


liiJ^ 


memory  of  childhood's  lessons  in  Christianity  recon- 
ciled you  to  the  labor  and  the  sacrifice  with  this  com- 
forting assurance,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  the 
least  of  these,  ye  did  it  also  unto  me."  Remember 
all  these,  and  then  gaze  on  the  dark  emblems  of 
sorrow  Hiat  envelop  Mrs.  Boddy,  Mrs.  Schicre,  Mrs. 
Brotherton,  and  tell  me,  have  you  still  Christianity 
that  enables  you  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done,"  nor  let 
your  lips  breathe  out  a  prayer  for  power  to  avenge 
your  bursting  heart?  Will  you  censure  now  the 
brave  and  manly  friends  on  whose  arms  these  widows 
lean,  while  they  go  back  to  a  home  with  the  sunlight 
gone?  If  these  friends,  in  sympathy  with  the  bereaved, 
do  swear  to  anticipate  a  tardy  justice,  do  you  still 
have  hard  words  for  the  pioneers  who  brave  danger 
and  drink  deeply  from  the  fountain  of  bitter  giief 
when  in  madness  they  ciy  for  revenge? 

It  is  one  thing  to  sit  through  a  life-time  under  the 
persuasive  eloquence  of  ministers  who  have  never 
walked  side  by  side  with  such  sorrow,  and  gradually 
form  an  ideal  or  real  monitor  in  the  soul,  until  human 
nature  seems  lost  in  the  divine  power  that  prepares 
humanity  for  higher  life,  and  until  we  think  we  can 
at  all  times,  when  smitten  on  one  cheek,  turn  the 
other.  It  is  quite  another  thing  to  break  old  family 
associations,  and,  leaving  the  scenes  of  childhood 
behind  you,  with  strong  and  brave  hearts,  open  the 
way  for  emigration;  plant  way-marks  that  point  to  a 
future  of  prosperity;  sow  the  seeds  of  civilization  in 
unbroken  wilds,  fairly  to  represent  your  l-ace  before  the 
savage,  and  live  in  the  exercise  of  a  religious  fliitli 
that  honest  dealings  and  the  overshadowing  exercise  of 
brotherly  love  will  be  a  sure  guaranty  of  final  reward. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


881 


To  go  out  on  the  bleak  plains  of  Lost  river,  and  by 
industry  and  economy  transform  the  sage-brush  des- 
erts into  fruitful  fields,  to  rear  the  unpretentious 
cabins,  and  open  your  doors  to  the  thirsty  and  hungry 
of  every  race  and  color,  and  then,  when  you  have 
done  all  this,  to  stand  in  your  cabin-door  and  smile 
back  at  the  waving  fields,  and  listen  to  the  lowing 
herds,  while  you  rejoice  in  your  instrumentality  in 
making  the  great  transformation ;  looking  hopefully  to 
a  future,  when,  from  neighboring  valleys,  shall  come 
up  sounds  of  friendly  recognition;  longing  for  the 
hour  when  you  may  catch  sight  of  children  returning 
from  the  country  school,  and  for  the  advent  of  the 
itinerant  minister,  who  will  bring  with  him  a  charter 
under  which  you  may  work  toward  a  brotherhood, 
whose  ties  will  bind  on  earth  and  reunite  in  heaven,  — 
when,  suddenly,  more  dh'eful  than  mountain  torrents 
or  heaving  earthquake,  comes  athwart  your  life  a 
scene  like  that  enacted  on  Lost  river,  Novemher  30th, 
1872. 

That  scene,  with  all  its  horrors,  has  been  repeated 
over  and  over  again,  and  will  continue  to  be  until  this 
Government  of  ours  shall  come  squarely  up  to  the 
performance  of  its  duty,  and  shall  have  clothed  worthy 
men  with  power  to  do  and  make  good  its  promises  of 
lair  and  impartial  justice  to  each  and  all  those  who  sit 
down  under  the  shadow  of  its  flag. 

Tell  me  truly,  do  you  still  feel  scorn  for  the  frontier 
people,  whose  lives  are  embellished  with  episodes  and 
tragedies  like  these  that  I  have  here  painted  in  plain- 
est colors,  and  nothing  borrowed  from  imagination, — 
no,  not  even  using  half  the  reality  in  making  up  the 
picture? 


I 


11 

41 


382 


WIGWAM   AXD  WARPATH. 


1*1 


1^ 


■   n 


I 
I 


•I 


My  words  cannot  call  back  the  dead,  or  flood  the 
rude  cabins  of  the  stricken  and  bereaved  with  sun- 
shine and  hope.  No.  There,  on  the  hill,  beside 
Linkvillo,  the  thirteen  little  mounds  lie  out  in  win- 
ter's storm  and  summer's  sun;  and  they  who  prema- 
turely sleep  there  will  wake  no  more. 

There,  on  the  plains,  stand  the  vacant  cabins  where 
these  once  lived.  There,  walking  with  the  spirits  of 
the  departed  by  their  sides,  the  widows  go;  while 
orphans'  faces  wear  reproach,  in  saddened  smiles, 
against  a  Government  that  failed  to  deal  justly,  and 
who,  with  light  and  careless  hand,  pointed  out  its 
ministers  of  law  without  thinking  once  how  much  of 
hur:.an  woe  and  misery  might  be  avoided  by  a  few 
well-studied  words  of  command. 

The  dead  are  buried,  and  the  notes  of  coming  strife 
succeed  those  of  bitter  wailing;  the  winter's  sun 
gleams  from  the  brass  mountings  of  officers;  the 
zephyrs  of  the  mountain  are  mingling  with  martial 
music;  the  great  plains  of  sage  brush  are  glittering 
with  polished  bayonets.  The  United  States  are  at 
length  aroused.  The  State  of  Oregon,  too,  is  waxing 
very  Avroth.  The  doom  of  the  Modocs  is  sealed;  and 
war!  war!  war!  is  the  word. 

From  the  half-dozen  little  military  posts  in  the 
Lake  country  is  seen  coming  a  gi'and  army  of —  well 
—  two  hundred  soldiers.  "  That's  enough  to  eat  up 
Jack's  little  band.  Ke  p  cool,  my  dear  friends. 
Let  'cm  go  for  'em.  They  need  a  iicJcin^  bad.  There 
wont  be  a  grease-spot  left  of  'em." 

(Such  was  the  speech  in  a  hotel  not  far  from 
Linkville,   Oregon.) 

"  Look-er  here,  stranger,  I'll  bet  you  a  hundred  head 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


383 


of  C0W8,  that  Captain  Jack  licks  them  there  two 
hundred  soldiers  like  h — 1;  so  I  will.  I  know  what 
I'm  talking  about,  I  do.  I  tried  them  Modoc  fellows 
long  time  ago;  they  won't  lick  worth  a  d — m;  so 
they  worCt.  If  Frank  Wheaton  goes  down  there  a 
puttin'  on  style  like  a  big  dog  in  'tall  rye',  he'll 
catch  h — 1;  so  he  will.  I'm  going  down  just  to 
see  the  ftm." 

"  You're  a  crazy  old  fool.  Frank  Wheaton  with  two 
hundred  soldiers  will  wipe  'em  out  'fore  breakfast," 
suggested  a  listener. 

"Look-erherc  if  I'm  crazy  the  cows  aint;  come 
come,  if  you  think  I'm  crazy,  come,  up  with  the 
squivlents,  and  you  can  go  into  the  stock-raisin'  busi- 
ness cheap.     You  can. 

"  Major  Jackson  went  down  there  tother  day  with 
forty  men,  and  Jack  hadn't  but  fourteen  bucks  with 
him,  and  he  licked  Jackson  out  of  his  boots  in  no 
time,  and  that  was  in  open  ground,  and  Jackson  had 
the  drap  on  the  Ingens  at  that ;  and  by  thunder  he 
got  the  worst  lickin'  a  man  ever  got  in  this  neck 
woods;  so  he  did.     Then  another  thing.  Captain  Jack 

aint  on  open  ground  now;  not  by  a  d d  sight. 

He  is  in  the  all-firedest  place  in  the  world.  You've 
been  to  the  '  Devil's  garden,'  at  the  head  of  Sprague 
river,  haven't  you  ?  Well,  that  place  aint  a  patchen 
to  that  ere  place  where  the  Injuns  is  now.  I've  been 
there,  and  I  tell  you,  it's  nearly  litenin',  all  rocks  and 
caves,  and  you  can't  lead  a  hprse  through  it  in  a 
week,  —  and  then  the  Injuns  knows  every  inch  of  the 
gi'ound,  and  when  they  get  in  them  there  caves, 
why  it  taint  no  use  talking,  I  tell  you,  you  can't  kill 


m 


384 


WIGWAM   AND   WABPATU. 


nary  an  Ingon, — you  carCt.    I'm  a-going  down  just 
to  se,e  tho  fan^ 

The  reporter  who  furnished  mo  the  foregoing 
speeches  did  not  learn  whether  a  l)et  was  made,  or 
whether  any  army  oiheers  overheard  the  tallc;  Ijut 
the  truth  is,  those  who  had  tliis  nice  little  breakfast 
job  on  hand  were  somewhat  of  the  opinion  of  the 
fellow  whose  "cows  were  not  crazy,  if  he  was." 
They  were  willing  to  have  help. 

This  little  Modoc  affair  was  a  favorable  thing  for 
Oregon  and  California,  in  more  ways  than  one. 
To  the  politician  it  was  a  windfall;  for  no  matter  what 
the  cause  (jf  war  may  have  been,  it  is  always  i)opular 
to  have  been  in  favor  of  the  last  war.  It  makes 
opportunity  for  bi-ave  men  to  win  laurels  and  undy- 
ing fame.  It  clothes  their  tongues  with  themes  for 
public  harangue  until  the  last  war  is  supei'seded  by 
another.  Then  again  it  was  a  heroic  thing  to  rush 
up  to  the  recruiting  office  and  volunteer  to  whip  the 
Modocs. 

It  is  not  at  all  likely  that  the  movement  of  armies 
over  railroads,  or  toll-roads,  or  steamboat  lines,  was  a 
desirable  thing  for  a  country  where  there  was  no 
money  in  it.  Tiicn  no  man  was  base  enough  to  wish 
for  war  for  motives  so  mean;  neither  could  it  be  pos- 
sible that  any  sane  man,  with  ordinary  judgment, 
could  see  any  speculations  or  chai:.cec  for  greenbacks 
in  war. 

Californians  did  intimate  that  the  Oregonians  were 
a  little  mercenary  in  their  anxiety  for  war;  but 
with  what  unaminity  our  press  repelled  the  mean 
insinuation  I 


WIOWAM   AND   WARI'ATII. 


385 


Our  Governor  very  promptly  sent  forward  two 
or  three  companies  of  volunteers,  —  California,  but 
one. 

Listen,  yc  winds,  to  the  neighing  steeds  and  clash- 
ing sabres,  and  see  the  uniformed  officers  and  the 
brave  boys,  all  with  faces  turned  toward  the  Lava 
Beds,  going  down  to  vindicate  the  honor  of  the  State 
whose  soil  had  been  invaded  by  a  ruthless  savage  foe. 

The  regulars  are  in  camp  near  the  Modocs,  wait- 
ing for  the  volunteers  to  come  up.  They  come,  with 
banners  flying,  and  steeds  prancing,  and  hearts  beat- 
ing triumphant  at  the  prospect  of  a  fight. 

Some  of  these  men  were  living  several  years  ahead, 
when  they  could  from  "  the  stump  "  tell  how  they 
bared  their  bosoms  to  the  Modoc  hail;  how  they 
carried  away  Modoc  scalps;  how  the  ground  was 
bathed  in  mingled  blood  of  Modoc  and  white 
men. 

The  army  now  numbering  foui'  hundred,  all  told, 
of  enlisted  men,  approaches  the  Lava  Beds.  One 
or  two  companies  encamp  at  Fairchild's.  They 
drill;  they  go  through  the  mimic  charges;  they  espy 
a  few  Modoc  women  and  children  encamped  on 
the  creek  near  Fairchild's  house,  —  they  propose 
to  take  them  in.  "Knits  make  lice,  —  let's  take 
them,  boys,  —  here  goes." 

A  middle-sized  grey-eyed  man,  with  his  whiskers 
dyed  by  twenty  years'  labor  on  "  the  coast,"  steps  out 
and  says,  "  No  you  don't,  not  yet.  Take  me  first. 
No  man  harms  defenceless  women  where  /  am, 
while  I  am  standing  on  my  perpendiculars." 

""Who  are  you?"  says  one  fine-looking  young  fel- 
low. 


m 


I :     It  ^i 


it 


i? 


'1 


38G 


WIGWAM   AND   AVARPATH. 


"  Try  me,  and  you  will  find  out  that  I  am  John 
Fairchild."  These  brave  fellows  had  not  lost  any 
Indians  just  then,  they  hadn't.     Bah ! 

"  Who  are  your  officers?  "  said  Fairchild. 

The  information  was  furnished,  and  soon  the  grey- 
eyed  man  was  reading  a  chapter  not  found  in  the 
Talmud,  or  the  Bible  either.  As  reported,  it  was 
eloquent,  though  not  classical. 

Preparations  were  being  completed  for  a  forward 
movement.  One-half  the  army  ,fas  to  move  to  the 
attack  from  the  south,  while  the  other  was  to  move 
down  from  the  north.  The  16th  of  January,  1873, 
the  two  wings  were  within  a  few  milos  on  either  side. 
Orders  were  given  to  be  in  motion  before  daylight 
the  follo\dng  morning.  Some  spicy  little  colloquies 
w^ere  had  botween  the  members  of  the  volunteer  com- 
panies; some,  indeed,  between  officers. 

One  brave  captain  of  volunteers  said  to  another, 
"  I  iiave  but  one  fear,  and  that  is  that  I  can't  restrain 
my  men,  they  are  so  eager  to  get  at  'em;  they  will 
eat  the  Modocs  up  raw,  if  T  let  'em  go." 

"  Don't  fret,"  said  Fairchild;  "you  can  hold  them; 
they  wont  be  hard  to  keep  back  when  the  Modocs 
open  fire." 

"  I  say,  Jim,  are  you  going  to  carry  grub?  " 

"  ISTo.  I  am  going  to  take  Modoc  Sirloin  for  my 
dinner." 

"/think,"  said  a  burly-looking  fellow,  "that  I'll 
take  mixic  rare.^^ 

Another  healthy-looking  chap  said  he  intended 
capturing  a  good-looking  squaw  for  a  —  dishwasher. 
(Good-looking  squawb  wash  dishes  belter  than  homely 
ones.) 


i: 


WIGWAM  A>T)   WARPATH. 


S87 


ended 
asher. 
omely 


A  number  of  humane,  chivalrous,  civilizing,  kind 
people  intended  to  capture  some  little  Ingens  for  ser- 
vants. One  fellow  declared  that  Captain  Jack's 
pacing  Jioss  should  be  his. 

To  have  hearl  the  camp  talk  the  night  before  the 
battle,  you  would  have  supposed  that  sundomi,  next 
day,  would  find  these  brave  men  loaded  with  Indian 
plunder  and  military  glory,  going  toward  home  in 
fine  style,  with  great  speeches  in  rehearsal  to  deliver 
to  the  gaping  crowds,  who  would  hang,  w^ith  breath- 
less interest,  on  the  words  that  they  would  deal  out 
with  becoming  modesty. 

That  night  was  a  long  one  to  ambitious,  noisy  men; 
and,  sad  to  say,  a  last  one  to  some  of  the  bravest  of 
the  army. 

But  the  guard  is  stationed  for  the  night,  thri  coun- 
cil of  officers  has  been  held,  and  the  moon  settles 
slowly  away;  the  soldiers  sleep.  The  orders  for  the 
morrow  are  understood,  and  quiet  reigns  throughout 
the  hopeful  camp. 

Xo  doubt  crosses  the  minds  of  the  men,  and,  per- 
haps, of  but  few  officers,  so  sanguine  are  they  of  suc- 
cess. The  greatest  fear  expressed  was,  that  the  fight 
would  not  last  long  enough  t  j  give  all  a  fair  show 
to  win  dii-tinction. 

Eest  quiet,  my  poor,  deluded  couitrymen!  Some 
of  you  arc  taking  your  last  sleep  but  one,  —  the  sleep 
of  death. 

If  you  had  asked  the  opinion  of  Maj.  Jackson  and 
John  Fairchild,  or  Press  Dorris,  they  would  have  set 
your  hearts  at  ease,  about  having  an  opportunity  to 
figiit  a  little  on  the  morrow.  You  will  have  a  chance 
to  tiy  your  metal,  never  fear,  my  dear  friends. 


wm 


' 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 


PEACE  OR  WAR— ONE    HUNDRED    LIVES    VOTED   AWAY   BY 

MODOC  INDIANS. 

Leaving  our  soldier  friends  to  dream  of  glory  to 
be  won  in  the  coming  battle,  let  us  pick  our  way  from 
their  camp  to  the  head-quarters  of  Captain  Jack. 

Our  starting-point  now  is  from  a  little  grove  of 
mountain  mahogany  trees  on  a  high  plateau,  a  few 
miles  south  of  the  California  and  Oregon  boundary 
line,  and  within  a  short  distance  of  the  extreme 
southern  end  of  lower  Klamath  lake.  The  trees  are 
dwarfed,  stunted,  and  bent  before  the  stormy  winds 
that  have  swept  over  them  so  continually. 

As  we  leave  this  military  camp,  a  long,  high,  sharp 
ridge  extends  northward  and  southward,  falling  away 
at  either  end  to  hills  of  lesser  height.  Climbing  to 
the  top,  and  looking  eastward,  we  see  Tule  lake, 
named  on  the  maps  of  this  country  Rhett  lake.  It  is 
a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  of  thirty  miles  from  north 
to  south,  and  fifteen  from  west  to  east.  We  see  also, 
with  a  field-glass,  across  the  lake,  the  lone  cabins 
where  the  strong  hands  of  Boddy,  Brotherton,  and 
others  have  laid  the  foundation  of  future  homes. 
They  Ftand  like  spirit  sentinels  on  the  nlain. 

Look  again  at  the  trail  leading  out  of  the  sage- 
brush plains ;  follow  with  your  glass  down  to  where  a 
high  stone  bluff  crowds  against  the  lake,  and  forces 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATfl. 


389 


the  wagon  trail  into  the  edge  of  the  water,  until  it 
disappears  in  the  high  tule  grass. 

In  September,  1852,  a  long  train  of  wagons,  drawn 
by  worn-out  ox^n,  driven  by  hardy,  ventui'esome 
pioneers,  came  down  that  trail. 

They  never  came  out  again,  save  the  two  or  three 
persons,  as  related  in  a  fonner  chapter. 

That  place  is  Bloody  Point. 

Turn  your  glass  northward,  and  see  the  trail 
emerge  from  the  tule  grass;  follow  it  until  it  turns 
suddenly  westward  and  reaches  the  natural  bridge  on 
Lost  river.  Turn  your  ^lass  up  the  river  one  mile, 
and  you  see  the  favorite  home  of  Captain  Jack,  where 
we  found  him  in  1869,  and  where  Major  Jackson 
found  him  on  the  morning  of  "November  30th, 
1872;"  and,  had  you  been  looking  at  that  spot  at 
4  P.  M.  of  the  23d  day  of  AprU,  1873,  you  would 
have  descried  a  four-horse  ambulance,  with  a  mounted 
escort  of  six  men  on  either  side,  and  standing  in  the 
front  end  of  that  ambulance  a  woman,  with  a  field- 
glass,  eagerly  scanning  the  surface  of  the  lake.  That 
TV  man  shows  anxiety  in  her  blue  eye  nnd  earnest 
«':"!.  while  she  changes  the  direction  of  the  glass, 
'.}c\mg  each  moment  to  catch  sight  of  a  boat 
cro  .-V  g  the  lake.  She  is  cool,  calm,  and  self- 
possessed,  although  no  other  lady  is  nearer  than 
twentv-fonr  miles. 

There  is  a  reason  for  her  presence  there ;  and  she 
will  need  all  her  self-command  when  the  looked-for 
boat  arrives.  Why,  that  lone  woman  is  there,  on  that 
23d  day  of  April,  we  will  tell  you  in  good  time. 

Turn  your  glass  back  now  to  Bloody  Point,  and 
follow  down  the  shore  of  the  lake.    Ah !  there  stands 


390 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


11  1st 


P' 


a  white-looking  object  near  a  bluff  that  is  black  with 
a  low  growth  of  trees.  The  white  object  is  Miller's 
house,  just  as  he  left  it  the  morning  before  hia  friend, 
Hooker  Jim,  murdered  him.  The  black-looking  bluff 
near  it  is  where  Ben  Wright  met  the  Modocs, 
in  a  peace  talk,  in  1852.  Swing  your  glass  round  to 
the  right,  following  the  shore  of  the  lake,  and,  at  the 
extreme  southern  end,  you  will  see  the  cabins  of 
Lou-e  Land  and  near  them  Col.  Barnard's  head- 
quarters. 

The  white  teii  of  the  soldiers  look  like  tiny  play- 
things, even  under  a  field-glass.  Col.  Barnard  is 
there  with  one  hundred  "  regulars,"  and  one  company 
of  "  volunteers."  Look  closely,  and  you  will  see  that 
half  the  volunteers  are  red-skinned  men.  Their  cap- 
tain is  a  tall,  fijie-looking  white  man,  who  addresses 
them  in  the  ancient  jargon  of  the  Klamaths,  —  this  is 
Oliver  Applegate. 

See  the  Indian  soldiers,  with  each  a  white  badge  on 
his  heol;  it  is  not  an  army  regulation  cap,  but  is 
simply  to  prevent  accident;  that  is,  it  is  a  mark  to 
distinguish  the  white  man's  ally  from  his  enemy. 

In  this  camp  are  men  about  as  anxious  to  march  on 
the  Modocs  as  those  on  the  north  side;  some  of 
these  red  soldiers  are  the  boys  who  made  Jack's  stay 
on  Klamath  Reservation,  in  1870,  so  uncomfortable- 
They  are  loyal,  though,  to  the  Government,  and  are 
willing  to  help  the  white  men  exterminate  their 
cousins  (the  Modocs) .  Then  the  pro  rata  of  annuity 
goods  will  be  so  much  the  larger.  They  don't  mean 
any  harm  to  the  Modocs,  although  since  1864  they 
have  been  receiving  regularly  the  price  the  Gov- 
ernment   has    paid    for  the   home  of  the  Modocs; 


WIGWAM  AND   WAEPATH. 


391 


except  on  one  or  two  occasions,  when  the  latter  were 
present. 

These  red-skinned  boys  are  anxious  to  capture  the 
Modoc  ponies;  for,  running  with  Jack's  band  of 
horses,  are  several  that  once  carried  these  Klamath 
boys  flying  over  the  plains;  until,  in  an  evil  moment, 
they  were  weak  enough  to  stake  them,  as  many  a 
poor,  weak-minded,  infatuated  white  man  has  done 
his  home,  all  on  the  hazardous  chance  of  certain  cards 
turning  up  at  the  right  time.  Well,  let  these  fellows 
take  rest,  for  they  will  need  all  their  nerve  before 
another  day  pusses. 

Move  your  glass  round  to  the  right,  what  a  sight 
do  we  see  I  A  great  flat-looking  valley  stretches  out 
south  and  w^est  from  the  ragged  shore  line  of  the  lake. 
On  the  further  boundary  see  the  four  low  buttes 
standing  in  a  line;  while  behind  Mount  Shasta 
raises  his  white  head,  overlooking  the  country  around 
on  all  sides  for  hundreds  of  miles. 

This  valley,  lying  so  cold  and  cheerless,  seems  to 
have  been  once  a  part  of  the  lake.  It  is  devoid  of 
timber,  save  one  lone  tree,  that  stands  out  on  what 
appears  to  be  a  plain,  of  almost  smooth  prairie ;  but 
we  forget  we  are  one  thousand  feet  above  this  valley. 

Let  us  follow  now  the  zigzag  trail  that  leads  to  the 
gap  just  where  the  valley  and  the  lake  unite. 

Better  dismount,  for  wagons  never  have  been,  nor 
ever  will  go  down  that  bluff.  Horses,  indeed,  need  a 
rough-lock  to  get  down  in  safety.  Oh  I  but  this  is  steep ; 
we  are  now  half-way  dowTi,  —  let  us  rest,  and  mean- 
while take  your  field-glass  and  "see  what  we  can 
see."  Whyl  it  don't  look  as  it  did  from  the  top  of 
the  biuff".     Oh  I  I  see  now  why  you  call  this  jjlace  the 


392 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


"  Lava  Beds."  From  this  stand-point  it  presents  the 
appearance  of  a  broken  sea,  that  had,  when  in  wild 
commotion,  suddenly  frozen  or  crystallized;  except 
that  the  surface  is  a  grayish  color.  Sage  brush  grows 
out  from  the  crevices  of  the  rock,  and,  occasionally, 
"  bunch  grass  "  may  be  seen. 

Near  the  foot  of  the  bluff  is  a  small  flat  of  a  few 
acres  that  is  free  from  rocks.  A  bay  from  the  lake 
makes  up  into  the  rocky  field;  then  a  long  point  of 
stony  land  runs  out  into  the  lake. 

Follow  the  shore-line,  and  another  bay,  or  arm  of 
the  lake,  runs  out  into  the  lava  rocks.  Look  care- 
fully, and,  on  the  next  point  of  lava  rocks,  running 
into  the  lake,  you  will  discover  a  gray  smoke  rising. 
There,  if  you  will  steady  your  glass,  you  will  see  dark 
forms  moving  round  about  the  fire. 

They  are  not  more  than  two  miles  from  our  point 
of  observation,  and  this  is  the  16th  day  of  June,  1873. 

See  that  man  standing  above  the  others.  He  is 
talking.  Wonder  who  he  is,  and  what  he  is  saying. 
Since  we  are  talking  of  Indians,  suppose  we  adopt 
Indian  spiritualism,  and  in  that  invisible  capacity  we 
will  hear  and  see  what  is  going  on. 

"We  will  pick  our  way  over  the  dim,  crooked  trail, 
first  in  real  person,  and  take  items  as  we  pass  along. 
The  trail  is  very  dim,  it  is  true,  —  only  seen  by  the 
rocks  misplaced  to  make  footing  for  the  Indian  ponies. 
"Now  we  wind  around  some  low  stony  point,  and  pick 
our  way  down  into  a  rocky  chasm. 

Slowly  rising,  we  climb  up  twenty  feet  of  bluff,  and 
out  on  a  plateau.  Looking  carefully  for  the  road,  we 
follow  a  half-round  circle  of  two  hundred  feet  on  the 
left;  and,  sloping  from  every  direction,  the  broken  lava 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


393 


rocks  tend  toward  a  common  centre,  forty  feet  below 
the  level  of  the  plateau.  As  we  pursue  our  way  another 
great  basin  is  in  sight,  of  similar  character  and  pro- 
portion; and  thus  this  plateau,  that  appeared  almost 
smooth  from  the  mountain-top,  is  made  up  of  a  suc- 
cession of  basins,  all  lined  with  broken  rock,  from  the 
size  of  a  dry-goods  box  to  that  of  a  meeting-house. 

Just  ahead,  we  see  rising  above  the  rocky  plain  a 
craggy  ledge,  standing  like  an  immense  comb,  the 
spikes  of  lava  forming  great  teeth.  On  the  right  and 
left  it  looks  as  if  the  teeth-like  crags  are  broken  mid- 
way, and  our  trail  is  pointing  to  one  of  these  breaks. 

Before  reaching  it,  we  see  on  either  hand  where  the 
breaks  are  filled  with  stones,  piled  in  such  a  way  that 
port-holes  are  left,  through  which  the  Modocs  propose 
to  fire  on  the  advancing  foes  when  they  come  to  the 
attack. 

Passing  between  upright  spires  of  lava,  we  come 
out  on  a  smooth  plain  of  fractured  stones ;  and,  pass- 
ing near  the  end  of  the  second  little  bay,  we  find 
rough,  sharp  ledges  rising  to  intercept  our  way. 

Picking  om*  steps,  we  stand  on  the  summit  of  the 
ledge.  Shut  your  eyes  now  while  we  pass  over  a  chasm 
of  thirty  feet  in  depth,  and  with  walls  almost  perpen- 
dicular. Our  bridge  has  been  made  by  a  gorge  of 
loose  rocks  that  fill  the  chasm  to  its  lips.  Some  of 
these  have  been  rolled  in  by  Indian  hands,  and  some 
by  old  Vulcan  himself,  when  he  spilled  the  lava  there. 

Come,  follow  the  trail,  —  now  we  stand  a  moment 
and,  looking  right  and  left,  we  see  great  fissures  and 
caverns  that  look  dark  and  forbidding;  suggesting 
ambush.  ]No  danger  here  now,  —  we  left  the  Modoc 
sentinel  behind  us,  at  the  huge  comb-like  ledge.     He 


i 


If  I' '  *  - 


If£:^l 


394 


WiaWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


is  not  afraid  of  us,  and  all  the  other  Modocs  are  in 
council.  Climbing  a  cliff  that  overlooks  a  deep,  wide 
chasm,  we  catch  sight  of  the  sage-brush  fire,  and 
suddenly  half  a  hundred  warriors,  in  half  dress  of 
"Boston,"  half  of  savage  costume, — some  of  them  are 
bare-armed,  and  have  curious-looking  figm'es  on  them 
made  of  paint. 

This  is  not  safe  now,  for  sharp  eyes  scan  the  sur- 
roundings, and  while  this  council  is  going  on,  the 
Modoc  women  are  doing  duty.  Some  of  them  are 
piling  on  the  sage  brush  to  keep  the  fire  going. 
Others  are  standing,  apparently  pillars  of  stone ; 
sphinx  like,  they  gaze  outward,  for  although  this 
council  is  being  held  in  a  place  secure  from  gaze  of 
pale-faced  man,  the  Modocs,  Indian  like,  are  ever  on 
the  alert,  and  do  not  intend  to  be  taken  by  surprise. 
Since  this  is  not  safe  for  us,  we  had  better  play  In- 
dian spirit,  if  we  would  see  and  hear  what  is  going 
on.  "What  we  lack  in  catching  the  words  in  the  spirit 
correctly,  we  will  obtain  from  some  friendly  Indian 
hereafter.  See  that  fellow  there;  his  face  looks  fa- 
miliar; yet  he  is  not  a  Modoc.  Oh!  yes;  we 
recognize  him  now ;  we  saw  him  at  the  peace  meeting, 
taking  the  Modocs  by  the  hand  then,  and  after- 
wards taunting  them  with  their  poverty  and  cowardice 
while  they  were  on  Klamath  Reservation  in  1870. 
That  fellow  is  Lirik-river  Jack.  He  is  a  natural 
traitor. 

He  has  crept  cautiously  into  the  Modoc  camp  to 
give  them  warning  of  the  soldiers  coming.  He  is 
the  Modocs'  friend  now;  he  tells  them  that  a  large 
army  is  coming;  that  they  are  on  the  bluff  almost 
within  sight. 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


395 


This  was  not  news ;  for  the  Modocs  had  counted 
the  soldiers,  man  by  man,  and  knew  exactly  how  many 
was  in  either  camp.  They  knew,  too,  that  half  the 
soldiers  were  citizens  with  whom  they  had  dealt  for 
years.  Link-river  Jack  tells  them  of  the  feeling  out- 
side against  them ;  that  peace  may  be  had  on  the  sur- 
render of  the  Modocs  who  killed  the  settlers. 
"We  did  not  hear  him  tell  them  that  if  they  would 
hold  out  a  few  days,  the  Klamaths  and  Snakes 
would  join  them;  but  our  friendly  Indian  asserts  that 
he  did. 

All  eyes  turn  now  to  the  chief.  Captain  Jack. 
He  rises  with  stately  mien  and  says,  "We  have 
made  a  mistake.  We  cannot  stand  against  the  white 
men.  Suppose  we  kill  all  these  soldiers;  more  will 
come,  and  still  more,  and  finally  all  the  Modocs 
will  be  killed;  when  we  kill  the  soldiers  others  will 
take  their  places;  but  when  a  Modoc  gets  killed  na 
man  will  come  to  take  Jiit}  place ;  we  must  make  the 
best  terms  we  can.  I  do  not  want  to  fight  the  white 
man.  I  want  no  war;  I  want  peace.  Some  of  the 
white  men  are  our  friends.  Steele  and  Rosebor- 
ough  are  our  friends ;  they  told  us  not  to  fight  the 
white  men ;  we  want  no  war ;  soon  all  the  young  men 
will  be  killed.    We  do  not  want  to  fight." 

Old  Schonchin  John  arose;  his  face  was  full  of 
war;  7ie  was  in  for  a  fight.  He  recalled  the  "Ben 
Wright"  massacre;  he  said,  "We  have  nothing  to  ex- 
pect from  the  white  men.  We  can  die,  but  we  will 
not  die  first.  I  won't  give  it  up ;  I  want  to  fight.  I 
can't  live  long.  I  am  an  old  man."  Schonchin  sat 
down.  He  had  no  hope  for  his  life;  his  crimes  were 
all  aiTayed  against  him,  and  he  knew  it. 


i"S,3 


396 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


Scar-face  Charley  rose  to  talk.  He  said,  "  I  was 
mad  on  Lost  river;  my  blood  was  bad.  I  was  in- 
sulted. I  have  many  friends  among  the  white  men. 
I  do  not  want  to  kill  them.  We  cannot  stand  against 
the  white  men.  True,  I  am  a  Modoc.  "What  their 
hearts  are,  my  heart  is.  May  be  we  can  stop  this  war. 
I  want  to  live  in  peace." 

Curly-haii'ed  Doctor,  who  was  with  the  murder- 
ing gang  in  Lost  river,  arose  and  said,  "I  am  a 
Modoc.  My  hands  are  red  with  white  man's  blood. 
I  was  mad  when  I  saw  the  dead  women  and  children 
on  Lost  river.  I  want  war.  I  am  not  tired.  The 
white  men  cannot  fight;  they  Kr.ot  in  the  air.  I  will 
make  a  medicine  that  will  turn  the  white  man's  bullets 
away  from  the  Modocs.  We  will  not  give  up.  We 
can  kill  all  that  come." 

The  discussion  is  ended,  and  now  comes  the  vote. 
They  divide  ofi",  —  those  who  were  for  war  walked  out 
on  one  side,  and  those  who  favor  peace  on  the  other. 
These  people  are  democratic;  the  majority  imles. 

The  vote  is  of  vast  importance  to  others  than  the 
Modocs.  One  hundred  and  fifty  soldiers  and  many 
citizens  are  interested  in  that  vote.  Gen.  Canby,  Dr. 
Thomas,  and  your  wi'iter,  are  to  be  very  much  affected 
by  that  vote.    Millions  of  dollars  hang  on  the  decision. 

Hold  your  breath  while  each  man  elects  for  himself. 
The  chief.  Captain  Jack,  walks  boldly  out  on  the 
side  of  peace,  but,  O  my  God,  few  dare  follow 
him.  The  majority  vote  for  blood,  and  gather  around 
Schonchin  John,  and  the  Curly-haired  Doctor.  The 
die  is  cast,  war  is  inevitable ;  let  us  see  who  is  with 
Captain  Jack.  There  goes  "  Scar-face  Charley," 
"William"    (the  wild  gal's  man),  "Miller's  Char- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


397 


ley,"  "Duffcy,"  «Te-hc  Jack,"  "Little  Poney,"  "Big 
Poney,"  "Duflfey's  Boy,"  "Chuckle-head,"  "Big 
Steve,"  "Big  Dave,"  "Julia's  man," — fourteen  men, 
no  more. 

The  bloodthirsty  villains  who  held  the  balance  of 
power  are,  "  Schonchin,"  "  Curly-head  Doctor,"  "  Bo- 
gus Charley,"  "Boston  Charley,"  "Hooker  Jim," 
"Shacknasty  Jim,"  "Steamboat  Frank,"  "Rock- 
Dave,"  "  Big  Joe,"  "  Curly  Jack,"  and  the  remaii\der 
of  the  band,  num^^ering  thirty-seven,  all  told.  There 
are  two  strange  Indians  there,  also;  they  are  Pitt 
river  thieves,  they  do  not  vote.  The  doctor's  speech 
has  done  the  work.  These  infuriated  thirty-six  men 
believe  in  him,  and  his  promise  to  make  medicine  that 
will  turn  the  bullets  of  the  white  men.  This  has 
more  power  than  the  clear,  logical  reasoning  of  Cap- 
tain Jack.  Having  turned  the  current  of  so  many 
lives,  the  doctor,  exulting  in  his  success,  repaired  to 
his  cave  to  fulfil  his  promise. 

Suppose  we  follow  him  and  see  how  this  thing  is 
done.  He  calls  the  singing  women  of  the  band  to- 
gether, and,  having  prepared  roots  and  religious  meats, 
he  builds  a  fire,  and,  with  a  great  deal  of  ceremony,  he 
places  the  sacrifice  thereon;  then  inhaling  the  smoke 
and  odor  of  the  burning  mess,  he  begins  his  religious 
incantations;  calling  down  the  good  spirit,  calling 
up  the  bad  spirit,  and  calling  loudly  for  ^\c  spirits  of 
the  dead  Indians  to  come;  while  the  women,  having 
pitched  a  tune  to  his  words,  begin  to  sing,  and  with 
their  shoulders  touching  each  other,  they  start  off  in 
a  rough,  hobbly  kind  of  a  dance,  singing  meanwhile; 
and  a  drummer,  too,  joins  in  with  a  hideous  noise, 
made  on  a  drum  of  peculiar  shape,  with  but  one  head 


I 


I 


398 


WIGWAJI   AND  WAUPATn. 


of  dried  rawhide,  or  iintanncd  buckskin,  drawn  tightly 
over  a  roiigli-made  hoop. 

Round  go  the  singing  dancers,  and  louder  grow 
the  voices  of  the  doctor  and  the  women;  both  in- 
creasing in  fury  until  exhausted  nature  gives  proof 
of  the  presence  of  the  various  spirits. 

The  braves  stand  looking  on  to  see  what  the  pros- 
pects are ;  satisiBed  that  the  medicine  is  getting  strong 
enough,  they  saunter  back  to  the  cave  of  the  chief, 
where  he  sits  with  thoughtful  brow,  planning  in  a  low 
voice  the  defence  of  the  morrow;  repeating  again, 
"  This  is  the  last  of  my  people;  I  must  do  what  their 
hearts  say;  I  am  a  Modoc^  and  I  am  not  afraid  to 
die."  Then  giving  orders  for  the  fight,  —  desig- 
nating where  each  man  should  be  station^  ^,  and 
appointing  women  to  carry  water  and  ammi  ik  to 
the  various  stations,  while  they  fight, — he  inspects 
the  arms,  and  estimates  how  long  the  powder  and  lead 
will  last,  tells  the  women  to  mould  bullets  for  the  old- 
fashioned  rifles;  he  then  tuiT^c  sadly  away  to  his 
sister,  Queen  Mary,  and  declares  that  he  is  now  going 
to  do  what  he  thought  he  never  would  do,  —  "  fight 
the  white  man." 

We  leave  the  howling  doctor  and  the  sad  chief  and 
return  to  the  soldier  camp  on  the  top  of  the  bluff. 
The  sentinels  are  walking  the  rounds;  all  is  quiet,  and 
the  boys  are  taking  their  rest,  —  some  of  them  their 
last  rest  save  one.  Ah  I  Jerry  Crook,  you  jumped 
down  from  a  stage-driver's  box  to  help  whip  the  Mo- 
docs.  Your  heart  is  beating  steadily  now;  it  will 
beat  wildly  for  a  few  minutes  to-morrow  afternoon, 
and  then  its  pulsations  will  cease  forever.  George 
Koberts,  too,  has  left  a  good  position  to  come  on  this 


id 


.18 


WIGWAM   AND   WAUPATII. 


399 


mission,  promising,  as  he  fondly  hopes,  a  dream  of 
glory,  which  he  will  share  with  his  conu'ades  when 
hereafter  ho  cracks  his  whip  over  the  teams  of  the 
Northwest  Stage  Company.  Enjoy  it  now%  my  dear 
fellow,  for  the  vote  in  yonder  camp  has  sealed  yonr 
fate.  Others  may  tell  how  bravely  you  died,  but  you 
will  not  live  to  tell  of  the  shout  of  victory  that  the 
M-o-d-o-c-s  will  send  over  your  dead  body  to-mor- 
row night.  Sleep  soundly,  my  soldier  boys ;  thirty  of 
you  will  not  answer  the  roll-call  after  the  battle  of  the 
morrow. 

Bravo  Gen.  Frank  "Wheaton,  why  do  you  still  walk 
back  and  forth,  arm-in-arm  with  Col.  John  Green  and 
Maj.  Jackson?  You  do  not  feel  so  sanguine  about 
to-morrow.  Jackson  has  said  something  that  has 
driven  sleep  from  your  eyes.  You  might  find  com- 
fort in  consulting  Gens.  Miller  and  Ross,  and  Col. 
Thompson,  of  the  "  Salem  Press,"  and  Capt.  Kelley, 
of  the  "Jacksonville  Times."  They  are  State  militia 
oiRcers,  it  is  true,  but  they  are  old  Indian  fighters,  and 
can  tell  you  how  quickly  you  can  whip  Captain  Jack 
in  the  morning.  They  are  leading  men,  who  may  be 
hard  to  restrain^  but  they  will  take  the  advance. 
Don't  say  a  word  to  Capt.  John  Fairchild;  he  Imows 
the  Modocs,  as  does  Press  Dorris.  They  know  the 
Lava  Beds,  too ;  they  have  hunted  cattle  over  this 
country,  and  understand  the  lay  of  it  better  than  any 
white  men  in  the  camp. 

They  are  not  so  very  confident.  They  said,  to-day, 
to  some  impatient  boys,  "Don't  fret;  you  will  get 
enough  to  do  you  before  you  see  your  mother  again. 
The  Modocs  are  on  it  sure  I " 


CHAPTER    XXY. 

MODOC  STEAK  FOR  BREAKFAST -- GRAY-EYED  MAN  ON  THE 

WAllPATH. 

Four  A.  M.,  January  11th,  1873. —  The  tattoo  is 
beaten,  and  the  soldiers  throw  aside  their  blankets. 
They  dress  themselves;  the  bankets  are  rolled  to- 
gether; the  men  sit  around  the  mess-table  on  the 
ground,  and  partake  of  coiFee  and  "  hard  tack."  The 
volunteer  State  militia  also  jump  out  from  under  their 
bankets,  and,  making  their  toilets  as  soldiers  do,  pre- 
pare for  duty  and  glory. 

The  weather  is  cold,  very  cold.  Breakfast  is  over, 
and  the  order  to  "  Fall  in  "  sounds  through  the  camp. 
The  blue  uniforms  take  places  like  automatons;  the 
roll  is  called.  "  Here !  "  "  Here !  "  comes  out  along  the 
line.  Poor  fellows  I  somebody  else  must  answer  for 
some  of  you  to-morrow ;  you  cannot  do  it  for  yourselves. 

The  line  of  march  is  taken.  The  California  volun- 
teers, under  the  gi'ay-eyed  man,  lead  the  way  toward 
the  bend  of  the  ridge.  Cautiously  they  approach  the 
river.  It  is  not  daylight  yet;  they  must  go  slow. 
Look  over  the  valley  below  us  -  ■  the  day  begins  to 
dawn.  Oh,  yes;  you  are  looldng  at  the  upper  side  of 
a  great  bank  of  fog.  The  signal  that  was  to  be 
given  Col.  Barnard  "  to  move  "  cannot  be  made.  But 
he  will  come  to  the  attack  on  the  south  at  the  same 
time  with  the  assault  from  the  north. 

The  soldiers  are  unencumbered  by  blankets  and 


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WIGWASI  AND  WARPATH. 


403 


knapsacks;  they  have  left  them  with  a  guard  at 
camp,  expecting  to  retm'n  in  a  few  hours.  They  ipovo 
cautiously  down  the  bluff  into  the  misty  scene  below. 
The  cavalry-men  arc  dismounted,  leaving  their  horses 
in  camp,  and  answer  to  the  call  of  the  bugle.  The 
two  hundred  men  are  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  at  the 
edge  of  the  Lava  Beds. 

The  lines  arc  formed;  each  company  is  assigned  a 
position.  In  the  dim  daylight,  mixed  with  fog,  they 
look  like  ghostly  mourners  out  on  the  rampart  of  the 
spirit  woi'ld.  Kark !  "  Forward  —  march  !  "  rings  out 
in  the  cold  morning  air,  and  the  ^ugle  repeats  "  For- 
ward—  march!"  The  line  mo  os^  stretching  out 
along  the  foot  of  the  bluff.  The  regulars  advance 
very  steady,  for  Maj.  Jackson's  company  that  was  in 
the  Lost-river  light  were  in  no  great  hurry  to  hear 
the  music  of  battle  again. 

The  volunteers  start  off  rapidly^,  while  Gen.  Ross 
and  Col.  Thompson  say,  "  Steady,  bovs,  —  steady." 
*' Steady,  my  boys,"  rep»,ats  Capt.  jLvulley,  of  the 
Oregon  volunteers. 

"  Go  slow,  boys,  go  slow.  You  il  raise  'em 
directly,"  says  the  gray-eyed  man,  who  commands 
the  Californians.  Cautiously  the  line  moves  over  the 
rocky  plain.  On,  still  on  —  noModocsyet.  On  again 
they  go  through  the  thick  fog.  "  Just  as  I  expected; 
they've  left.  I  knew  they  wouldn't  stand  and  fight 
when  the  volunteers  got  after  them."  —  "  They  knew 
we  was  a  comin'."  Such  speeches  were  made  by  men 
who  were  hungry  for  "  Modoc  sirloin. ^^  "  Steady 
there;  we'll  raise  them  pretty  soon,"  says  gray  eyes. 
"They  haint  run;  they're  ihar  sure.  Go  slow,  boys; 
keep  down,  boys  —  keep  down  low,  boys." 


404 


WIGWAJI  AKD  AVARPATH. 


■v.M 


Hark  I  again;  what  is  that  rumble,  like  a  train 
crossing  a  great  bridge?  Bang  —  bang  —  bang  — 
bang  comes  thi'ough  the  fog  bank.  "  Barnard's  opened 
or  'em.  IS^ow  we  will  go.  Hurrah  1  We  will  take 
'em  in  the  rear.  Hurrah !  huiTah !  hurrah  for  h — 1," 
sings  out  a  Modoc-eating  fellow. 

"  That's  right ;  every  man  hurrah  for  the  country 
he's  going  to,"  comes  from  a  quiet  regular  on  the  left. 

Through  the  mist  a  gleam  shoots  out,  and  then  a 
rattle  of  musk  ts  just  in  front  of  the  advancing  line. 
Hey!  what  means  that?  Did  Roberts  stumble  and  fall? 
Yes,  he  fell,  but  he  cannot  get  up  again;  his  blood  is 
spurting  from  his  neck  on  the  rocks.  Look  to  the 
right.     Another  has  fallen  to  rise  no  more. 

"  Fire!  "  says  Col.  Green.  "Fire!  "  says  the  bugle. 
"Fire!"  say  the  volunteer  officers,  and  a  blaze  of 
light  burst  forth  along  ^  the  line.  To  see  the  flame 
from  the  guns,  one  would  suppose  they  saw  the  enemy 
on  some  cliff  above  them,  although  the  Modoc  flame 
was  on  a  level. 

Perhaps  the  Modocs  have  changed  their  base.  N^o, 
that  cannot  be,  for,  see!  again  it  blazes  out  just  in 
front,  and,  oh,  see  the  soldiers  fall. 

On  the  right  of  our  line,  among  the  rocks,  a  level 
blaze  follows  the  Modoc  volley.  There  is  somebody 
there  who  knows  what  he  is  about.  "  Charge!  "  rings 
out  the  voice  of  Green.  "  Charge ! "  repeats  the 
bugle.  The  line  moves  forward  at  a  double-quick, 
over  the  rough  waves  of  hardened  lava. 

On,  on,  still  on  the  shattered  line  moves,  for  sev- 
eral hundred  yards.  Still  no  howl  of  pain  from  Mo- 
doc lips. 

"They've  run,"  exultingly  shouts  a  voice;  but  before 


WIOWAM   AND   AVARPATH. 


405 


sev- 
M6- 

sfore 


the  echo  of  that  voice  had  repeated  the  lie,  through 
the  rocky  caves  another  blazing  line  appears  in  front. 
Bang,  bang,  now  comes  from  the  fmther  side;  again 
ii  charge  is  ordered,  and,  climbing  over  chasms  and 
caverns,  the  now  broken  line  move  as  best  they  can ; 
no  groan  of  agony  tells  of  Modocs  with  bayonets  or 
bullets  pierced.  No  eye  has  seen  a  redskin,  but  four 
hundred  pairs  of  ears  have  heard  the  Modoc's  war- 
whoop,  and  four  hundred  hearts  have  trembled  at  the 
sound. 

The  line  still  moves  forward,  firing  at  the  rocks, 
and  —  and  another  brave  white  man  falls. 

The  investment  must  be  completed;  junction  must 
be  made  with  Col.  Barnard.  Where  arc  the  volun- 
teers? The  gap  in  the  line  must  be  closed.  Where 
is  Capt. ?     The  caves  answered  back,  "Where?  " 

But  Donald  McKay,  the  scout,  says  "  They  are  be- 
hind the  ledge  yonder,  lying  down." 

"Order  them  up,"  says  Gen.  Frank  Wheaton. 

An  aide-de-camp  fails  to  open  communication  with 
them. 

The  gallant  Green  is  trying  now  to  close  up  the 
line.  "  Forward,  my  men,"  he  shouts.  "  Mount  the 
cliff."  The  foremost  man  falls  back  pierced  with 
Modoc  bullets.  Green  quickly  leaps  upon  the  cliff  — 
a  dozen  rifles  from  the  cave  send  flame  and  balls  at 
him.  "  Come,  my  men.  Up,  up,"  and  another  man 
reels  and  falls.  "  Come  up,"  again  shouts  the  brave 
colonel,  still  standing  with  the  bullets  flying  around 
him.  Another  blue  blouse  appears,  and  it,  too,  goes 
backward;  thus  the  little  mound  of  dead  soldiers 
grew  at  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  until,  at  last,  the  gray- 
eyed  man,  taking  in  the  situation,  points  out  to  his 


40G 


■VVIOWAM   AND    WAIIPATII. 


men  the  Indian  battery  that  commanded  this  position, 
and  then  the  sharp,  quick  rifles,  mingle  smolce  and 
bullets  with  the  muskets  and  howitzers,  and  Green's 
men  pass  over  the  cliff. 

The  fog  is  lifting  now,  but  scarce  an  Indian  yet 
seen.  Still  the  circle  of  bayonets  contracts  around 
the  apparently  ill-starred  Modoc  stronghold. 

Take  a  station  commanding  a  view  of  the  battle. 
Do  you  hear,  amid  all  this  din  of  exploding  gunpow- 
der, the  shrieks  of  mangled  white  men,  and  the  exult- 
ing shouts  of  the  Modocs?  Look  behind  you;  the 
Bun  is  slowly  sinking  behind  Mount  Shasta,  tired  of 
the  scene.  The  line  is  broken  again,  and,  where  a 
part  of  it  had  stood,  sec  the  writhing  bodies  in  blue, 
half  prostrate,  some  of  them,  and  calling  loudly  for 
comrades  to  save  them. 

A  council  is  called  by  Gen.  AVheaton;  the  fighting 
goes  on;  the  line  next  the  lake  gives  back.  "Draw 
off  your  men !"  is  the  order  that  now  echoes  along 
the  faltering  lines;  the  bugles  sound  "Retreat."  The 
men  are  panic-stricken.  Hear  the  wounded,  who  un- 
derstand the  bugle-call,  shouting  to  comrades,  "  Da 
not  leave  us."  The  volunteers  halt;  they  return  to 
the  rescue.  The  IVIodoc  fire  is  fearful.  One  of  the 
wounded  men  is  reached  in  safety,  but  when  two  of 
his  comrades  lift  him  up,  one  of  them  drops. 

Fairchild's  men  now  go  to  the  rescue,  crawling  on 
their  faces;  they  almost  reach  the  two  wounded  men; 
one  of  the  rescuers  falls;  they  cannot  be  saved.  One 
wounded  man  begs  to  be  killed.  "Don't  leave  me 
alive  for  the  Modocs."  The  cry  is  in  vain.  The 
army  of  joiLr  hundred  mm  are  on  the  r(  treat.  They 
fall  back,  followed  by  the  shouts  and  bullets  of  the 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


407 


Modocs,  and  soon  leave  the  voices  of  the  wounded 
behind  them.  Is  it  true  that  our  army  is  retreating 
now  from  fifty  savages? 

Is  it  possible  that  our  heroes,  who  were  to  dine  on 
"  Modoc  sirloins,''^  are  scrambhng  over  the  rocks  on 
empty  stomachs,  after  a  ten-hour  fight?  Is  it  true 
that  the  cries  for  help  by  wounded  soldiers  are  heard 
only  by  the  Modocs?  Yes,  my  reader,  it  is  true. 
Every  cfibrt  to  save  them  cost  other  lives. 

Our  army  grope  their  way  in  darkness  over  the 
rocks  they  had  passed  so  hopefully  a  few  hours  since. 
They  climb  the  bluff,  expecting  an  attack  each  min- 
ute; the  wounded,  who  are  brought  off  the  field,  are 
compelled  to  await  surgical  aid  until  the  army  can  be 
placed  in  a  safe  position. 

The  camp  on  the  north  is  reached,  and,  without 
waiting  for  morning,  they  fall  back  to  "  Bremer's " 
and  "  Fairchild's." 

Wlien  the  roll  is  called  in  the  several  companies 
thirty-five  regulars  and  volunteers  fail  to  answer. 
Their  dead  bodies  lie  stark  and  cold  among  the  rocks. 
The  Modoc  men  disdain  to  hunt  up  victims  of  the 
fight.  The  squaws  are  permitted  to  do  this  work.  It 
is  from  Modoc  authority,  that  they  found  two  men 
alive  at  daylight  next  morning,  and  that  they  stoned 
them  to  death;  finally  ending  this  long  night  of  horror 
by  one  of  the  most  cruel  deaths  that  savage  ingenuity 
could  suggest.  Look  now  in  the  Modoc  camp  when 
the  squaws  come  in,  bearing  the  arms  and  clothing  of 
the  fallen  United  States  soldiers.  See  them  parade  these 
before  the  Indian  braves.  Sec  those  young,  ambitious 
fellows,  with  those  curious-looking  things.  Here  are 
"  Hooker  Jim  "  "  Bogus  Charley,"  and  "  Boston  Char- 


M-:sJ- 


II 


im 


i 


i 


! 


■ 


408 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


ley,"  "Shacknasty  Jim,"  "Steamboat  Frank,"  and 
several  others,  holding  aloft  these  specimens  of  God's 
handiwork  and  their  own. 

You  ask.  What  are  they? 

Go  to  yesterday's  line  of  battle,  scan  the  rocks 
closely,  and  you  will  sec  some  of  them  are  dyed  with 
human  gore;  look  closely,  and  you  will  see  a  bare  foot, 
may  be  a  hand,  half-covered  with  loose  stones;  ex- 
amine carefully,  move  the  rocks,  and  you  will  find  a 
mutilated  white  body  there,  and  if  you  will  uncover 
the  crushed  head  you  will  see  where  the  articles  came 
from  that  the  Modoc  braves  are  showing  with  so 
much  pride. 

Suppose  you  count  the  Modoc  warriors  now.  We 
know  they  had  fifty-three  yesterday  morning,  for  we 
have  the  names  of  all  the  men  of  the  whole  tribe,  and  we 
have  taken  pains  to  ascertain  that  every  man  who  did 
not  belong  to  Captain  Jack's  band  was  at  "  Yai-nax," 
under  the  eye  of  the  old  chief  "Schonchin"  and  the 
Government  agent,  while  the  battle  of  yesterday  was 
going  on,  except  three  Modocs  — Cum-ba-twas — and 
they  were  with  Capt.  Oliver  Applegate's  company 
during  the  fight.  There  is  no  miscount.  Fairchild, 
Applegate,  Dorris,  and  Frank  Riddle  know  every  one 
personally.  Call  the  roll  in  Jack's  camp,  and  evo^y 
man  will  answer  to  his  name,  except  one  man  who  was 
wounded  in  a  skirmish  on  the  15th,  with  Col.  Perry's 
company  of  regulars.  This  statement  is  correct,  not- 
withstanding the  Telegraph  said  the  Modocs  had  two 
hundred,  men  in  the  ficjht. 

Listen  to  Curly-haired  Doctor.  He  is  saying,  in 
his  native  tongue,  "  I  promised  you  a  medicine  that 
would  turn  the  white  man's  bullets.     Where  is  the 


WIOWAJjl   AND  WARPATH. 


409 


Modoc  thai;  has  been  struck  with  the  white  man's 
bullets?  I  told  you  'Soch-a-la  Tyee,'  the  Great 
Spirit,  was  on  our  side.  Your  chief's  heart  was 
weak;  mine  was  strong.  We  can  kill  all  the  white 
men  that  come." 

Schonchin  John  says :  "  I  felt  strong  when  I  saw 
the  fog  that  our  medicine-man  had  brought  over  the 
rocks  yesterday  morning.  I  knew  we  could  kill  the 
soldiers.     We  are  3fodocs" 

The  chief  (Captain  Jack)  arose,  all  eyes  turn 
towu/d  him,  and  in  breathless  silence  the  council 
awaits  his  speech. 

He  does  not  appear  to  share  in  the  general  rejoic- 
ing. He  is  thoughtful,  and  his  face  wears  a  saddened 
look.  He  feels  the  force  of  the  doctor's  speech; 
Schonchin's  also.  He  knows  they  are  planning  for 
his  removal  from  the  chieftainship. 

"  It  is  true  we  have  killed  many  white  men.  The 
Modoc  heart  is  strong;  the  Modoc  guns  were  sure; 
the  bullets  went  straight.  We  are  all  here;  but  hear 
me,  O  muck-a-lux  (my  people) .  The  white  men  are 
many;  they  will  not  give  up;  they  will  come  again; 
moi^e  will  come  next  time.  No  matter  how  many  the 
Modocs  kill,  more  will  come  each  time,  and  we  will 
all  be  killed  after  a  while.  I  am  your  voice.  My 
blood  is  Modoc.  I  will  not  make  peace  until  the 
Modoc  heart  says  ^jieace.^  We  will  not  go  on  the 
warpath  again.     Maybe  the  war  will  stop." 

After  the  several  braves  have  recoimted  the  various 
exjjloits  they  have  performed,  the  council  adjourns. 

See  the  squaws  bringing  great  loads  of  sage  brush. 
They  are  ])reparing  for  a  grand  scalp  dance.  This  is 
to  be  a  great  demonstration.  The  women  dress  in  best 


II 


H 


\  i 

'I 
1 ; 


410 


WIGWAJI   AND   WAUPATII. 


attire  and  paint  their  faces,  whik  the  men,  now  wild 
with  triumph,  prepare  for  the  ceremonies  of  rejoicing. 

The  drum  calls  for  the  dance  to  commence.  They 
form  around  the  fire  on  the  bare  rocks,  each  warrior 
painted  in  blacl:  and  red,  in  figures  rudely  made  on 
their  arms  and  breast,  indicating  the  deeds  they  may 
boast  of.  Each  bears  on  the  ramrod  of  his  gun  the 
scalps  he  has  taken.  The  medicine-man  begins  a 
kind  of  prayer  or  thanksgiving  to  the  Great  Spirit 
above,  and  to  the  bad  spirit  below,  for  the  success 
they  have  won.  The  dances  begin,  —  a  short,  upright 
hop,  singing  of  the  great  deeds  of  the  Modocs,  the 
warriors  meanwhile  waving  the  ramrods  with  the 
Bcalps. 

Round  and  round  they  move,  stepping  time  to  the 
rude  music,  until  they  are  exhausted.  The  blood 
of  the  warriors  is  at  fighting  heat. 

The  chief  takes  no  part.  lie  is  ill  at  ease;  his 
mind  is  busy  with  gi*eat  thoughts  concerning  the 
past  and  the  future  of  the  Modoc  people. 

Leaving  the  Modocs  to  exult  and  quarrel  alter- 
nately, let  us  hunt  up  our  disappointed  army.  A 
part  of  them  have  returned  to  Col.  Barnard's  camp 
at  Lone  Lands;  another  part,  the  volunteers,  have 
collected  at  Fairchild's  ranch.  Great,  unauthorized 
councils  are  being  held;  a  hundred  men  give  wise 
opinions.  Gen.  Frank  Wheaton  is  declared  "  incom- 
petent," and  some  underhand  work  is  going  on  to  have 
him  relieved  of  his  command.  It  will  succeed,  al- 
though he  was  brave  and  skilful,  and  did  as  well  as  any 
other  man  could  have  done  under  the  circumstances. 

But  that  is  not  the  question  now,  he  must  be  re- 
lieved; it  is  enough  that  he  did  not  succeed,  and  it  is 


WKIWAM   AXD   WAUPATIJ. 


411 


necessary  now  to  send  a  new  man  and  let  hiin  learn 
something  of  the  country.  True,  Gen.  Wheaton  has 
experience  and  would  know  how  to  manage  better 
than  a  new  man.  Political  power  is  triumphant,  and 
this  worthy  man  is  humbled  because  he  could  not  i)er- 
form  an  impossibilittj.  lie  had  raw  recruits,  that  were 
iniskilled  in  Indian  wars,  and  he  was  attacking  with 
this  force  the  strongest  natural  fortress  ou  the  conti- 
nent. 

Let  us  listen  to  some  of  the  pretty  speeches  being 
made  in  the  volunteer  camp. 

"I  tell  you  aint  them  Modocs  nearly  thunder 
though?  But  the  '  regulars '  fired  from  the  hip;  they 
could  not  get  clown  and  draw  a  fine  bead." 

"  It  takes  Volunteers  to  fight  Ingens.  Ruther  have 
one  hundred  volunteers  anytime  than  a  regiment  of 
'  regulars.'  *' 

"  The  captain  says  he's  going  to  raise  a  new  corn- 
pan}',  picked  men;  and  then  the  Modocs  will  get  h — 1. 
Won't  they  though?" 

Our  unpopular  gray-eyed  man  strolled  into  the 
volunteer  camp.  He  is  a  little  caustic  sometimes. 
Sauntering  up  to  the  fellow  who  was  so  brave  a  few 
days  before,  he  said :  — 

"How  did  you  like  your  'Modoc  sirloin,'  eh?  putty 
good,  eh?  didn't  take  it  raw,  did  you?  Where's  that 
feller  who  was  going  to  bring  hom^  a  good-looking 
squaw  for  a  —  dishwasher?  Wonder  how  he  likes 
her  about  this  time?  Where's  that  other  fellow  who 
was  going  to  ride  Captain  Jack's  pacing  lioss? 

"  Wonder  if  those  boys  who  were  spoiling  for  a  fight 
are  out  of  danger? 

"  Say,  boys,  there's  some  old  squaws  over  there  near 


(I 

I 

tti 


412 


WIOWAM    AND  WARPATH. 


the  spring;  they  alnt  got  any  guns,  aint  no  bucks 
there;  may  be  you  can  take  them."  Tossing  his  head 
a  little  to  one  side,  a  habit  of  his  when  full  of  sarcasm, 
he  went  on  to  ask  the  captain  of  a  certain  company, 
"  if  he  found  any  difficulty  in  holding  his  boys  back. 
Where  was  you  during  the  fight,  anyhov/?  I  heard 
Gen.  Wheaton  asking  for  you,  but  nobody  seemed  to 
know  where  you  was,  'cept  Donal'  McKay,  and  he  said 
you  was  down  on  the  point;  said  he  saw  your  general 
there  with  a  mighty  nice  breech-loading  bird  gun,  and 
that  once  in  a  while  some  of  you  would  raise  your 
heads  and  look  round,  and  then  Shacknasty  Jim 
would  shoot,  and  you  would  all  lie  down  again. 

"  Now,  captain,  let  me  give  you  a  little  bit  of  advice; 
it  won't  cost  you  nothing.  When  you  raise  another 
company  to  fight  the  Modocs,  don't  you  take  any  of 
them  fellows  that  you  can't  hold  back,  nor  them 
fellows  who  want  to  eat  Modoc  steaks  raw;  they  aint 
a  good  kind  to  have  when  you  get  in  a  tight  place. 
Why,  Shacknasty  Jim  could  whip  four  of  them  at  a 
time.  Them  kind  of  fellers  aint  worth  a  continental 
d — m  for  fightin'  Modocs.  Better  leave  them  fellers 
with  their  mammies." 


CHAPTER     XXVI. 

OLIVE  BRANCH  AND   CANNON  BALLS  —  WHICH  WILL  WIN? 

A  FEW  days  after  this  battle  Cajjtain  Jack  sent  a 
message  to  John  Fairchild  and  Press  Dorris,  propos- 
ing a  "talk,"  telling  them  that  they  should  not  be 
molested,  and  agreeing  to  meet  them  at  the  foot  of 
the  bluft",  near  the  Modoc  cami).  Messrs.  Fairchild 
and  Dorris,  accompanied  by  one  other  white  man  and 
an  Indian  woman  (Dixie),  visited  the  Lava  Beds. 

The  meeting,  as  described  by  Fairchild,  was  one  of 
peculiar  interest.  Those  who  had  Iccn  friends,  and 
tlita  enemies  and  at  war,  without  any  formal  declara- 
tion of  peace,  coming  together  in  the  stronghold  of 
the  victorious  party,  presents  a  phase  of  Western  life 
seldom  witnessed.  The  white  men,  fully  armed,  ride 
to  the  Indian  camp  with  the  squaw  guide.  The  Mo- 
docs  had  observed  them  with  a  field-glass  while  they 
were  descending  the  bluff,  two  miles  away. 

On  their  arrival,  the  men  who  had  so  earnestly 
sought  each  others'  lives  stood  face  to  face.  A  pain- 
ful silence  followed,  each  party  waiting  for  the  other 
to  speak  first.  The  Modocs  approach  and  oficr  to 
shake  hands.  "  ^ b,  you  don't,  until  we  understand 
each  other,"  said  Fairchild;  and  continued,  "We 
came  here  because  we  learned  that  you  wanted  to 
talk  peace.  We  are  not  afraid  to  talk  or  to  hear  you 
talk.  We  were  in  the  battle.  We  fought  youy  and 
we  xvilljight  again  unless  peace  is  made." 


El 


414 


WIGWAM   AND   WAKI'ATII. 


li 


Captain  Jack  replied,  that  "the  Moc'ocs  knew  all 
about  who  was  in  the  big  battle,  but  that  should  not 
make  trouble  now.  We  are  glad  you  come.  "We 
want  you  to  hear  our  side  of  the  story.  AVe  do  not 
want  any  war.  Let  us  go  back  to  onr  homes  on  Lost 
rivei".  We  are  willing  to  pay  you  lor  the  cattle  we 
have  killed.     AVe  don't  want  to  fight  any  more." 

Such  was  the  substance  of  Captain  Jack's  speech; 
to  whicli  Fairchild  and  Dorris  replied,  that  they  were 
not  authorized  to  make  any  terms,  but  would  do  all 
they  could  to  prevent  further  war. 

These  men  visited  the  Modoc  camp  from  humane 
and  kindly  motives ;  yet  tongues  of  irresponsible  par- 
ties dared  to  speak  slanderous  words  against  these 
men  who  ventured  where  their  vilifiers  would  not 
have  gone  for  any  consideration.  Their  motives  were 
questioned,  and  insinuations  unworthy  the  men  who 
made  them,  never  would  have  been  made  had  the 
characters  of  Fairchild  and  Dorris  been  better  under- 


stood. 


The  results  of  the  battle  of  Jan.  17th  had  startled 
the  public  mind,  and  especially  the  authorities  at 
"Washington  City.  On  investigating  the  cause  of  the 
war,  it  was  thought  that  some  mistake  had  been  made. 
The  citizer>=  of  Oregon  who  were  then  in  Washing- 
'^'^n,  headed  by  Gen.  E.  L.  Applegate,  consulted  with 
Attorney-Genci-al  Williams  on  the  subject  of  the  Mo- 
doc troubles.  Liasmuch  as  a  vast  amount  of  ink  has 
since  been  wasted  in  expressing  indignation  against 
the  Modoc  Peace  Commission,  I  herewith  submit  the 
gubjoin^d  letter  from  Gen.  Applegate,  of  Oregon,  to 
the  "Oregon  Bulletin,"  which  gives  a  fair,  and,  I  be- 
licv  i,  t'"^'3  statement  of  the  circumstances  attending 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


415 


its  conception.  I  was  not  present  at  the  conference 
referred  \;o,  neither  was  I  consulted  as  to  the  propriety 
of  the  movement,  either  by  the  Honorable  Secretary 
or  the  Oregon  delegation.  Secretary  Delano  is  quali- 
fied to  defend  his  own  action,  and  I  only  suggest  that, 
with  the  representations  set  forth,  he  acted  wisely  in 
the  course  he  pursued. 

Although  I  did  not  advise  the  appointment  of  a 
Peace  Commission,  I  declare  that  it  was  right,  and  no 
blame  can  be  justly  attached  to  either  the  Commission 
or  t  ic  appointing  power,  if  it  was  not  a  success. 

7. he  principle  of  adjusting  difficulties  by  such 
m^ans  ip  in  harmony  with  justice  and  right.  Let 
those  who  hurned  the  Honorable  Secretary  in  effigy 
remember  the  continued  stream  of  denunciation  that 
was  poured  out  against  the  Commission  by  a  portion 
of  the  secular  press  of  the  Pacific  coast,  and  the 
reason  why  the  peace  meaoures  failed  may  be  better 
understood. 


' 


LETTER  FEOM   WASHESTGTON   OITY. 

How  the  ^^ Peace  Commission^''  was  formed  —  An 
Account  from  General  Applegate  —  His  Agency  in 
the  flatter. 

Wasiiixgton,  D.  C,  January  20tli,  1873. 

Editors  Bulleten":  I  "arise  to  explain"  that,  since 
coming  to  this  city  I  have  been  meddling  somewhat 
with  public  aff'airs.  You  krow  the  Indian  question  is 
one  which  I  think  I  have  a  right  to  express  an 
opinio'^  upon.  I  ought  to  know  something  of  Indians 
and  Indian  aftair^i;  and,  believing  tliat  a  wrong  ]~^olicy 
in  regard  to  the  Modocs  might  involve  the  country 


PI 


N+'     ■4 


•    a 


1 4 


;l;lii 


li 


416 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


ill  a  tedious  and  expensive  Indian  war,  without  a 
sufficient  (Jegree  of  good  being  accomplished  by  it  to 
justify  the  losses,  delays,  and  expenses  incurred,  I 
could  not  avoid  undertaking  such  action  as  I  believed 
might  the  most  quickly  hasten  a  settlement  of  the 
t.ouble. 

The  fame  abroad  of  Indian  wars  and  dangers  in 
our  State  is  very  injurious  to  the  cause  of  immigra- 
tion. A  great  many  good  people  are  confirmed  in 
an  opinion,  which  has  been  vci'y  considerably  enter- 
tained heretofore,  namely,  that  Oregon  is  yet  an 
Indian  country,  and  that  the  settlements  are  at  all 
times  in  imminent  danger  of  the  tomahawk  and 
scalping-knifc. 

My  policy  with  Indians  may  be  denominated  the 
"pow-wow"  policy.  A  matter  has  not  only  to  be 
thoroughly  explained  to  an  Indian,  but  it  must  be 
explained  over  and  over;  and  the  fact  is,  that  thirty 
years  of  observation  convince  me  that  Indians  can 
be  talked  into  any  opinion  or  out  of  it  by  the  men  in 
whom  they  have  confidence,  and  who  understand  the 
proper  style  of  Indian  talk.  Consequently,  I  was  in 
favor  of  sending  some  man  as  a  Peace  Commissioner 
to  the  Modoc  country  to  pow-wow  with  these  Indians 
and  Sv.:;tle  the  difficulty.  "  Jaw-bone  "  is  cheaper  than 
ammunition;  and  the  fact  is,  that  all  comes  round  to 
this  at  last,  and  always  has.  This  might  just  as  well 
be  done  at  first,  it  seems  to  me,  as  to  go  through  all 
the  ups  and  downs,  and  expense  of  blood  and  treasure 
and  long-delayed  peace,  with  the  bad  effects  abroad 
on  the  State,  and  then  come  to  it. 

I  was,  therefore,  in  favor  of  sending  Mr.  Meacham 
to  that  country  immediately  as  a  peace  officer,  to  turn 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


417 


the  whole  thing  into  a  "  big  talk,"  instead  of  letting 
it  go  on  and  getting  into  a  big  war. 

This  policy  was  agreed  upon  by  as  many  of  the 
Oregonians  as  could  be  got  together.  Styling  our- 
selves an  "Oregon  delegation,"  we  called  upon 
Attorney-General  Williams,  and  submitted  the  matter 
to  him.  "We  promptly  received  a  note  from  the 
attorney-general,  stating  that  Secretary  Delano  would 
be  glad  to  see  us  in  regard  to  this  matter,  and 
on  Saturday,  the  25th,  we  called  upon  him.  We 
found  him  a  pleasant  gentleman,  with  a  very  serious 
business  expression  about  his  face.  He  heard  our 
statements  and  opinions  with  great  patience,  and  re- 
quested a  statement  in  writing  of  our  views,  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  the  matter  before  the  cabinet 
and  President.  The  following  is  the  said  document, 
which  was  signed  by  the  aforesaid  Oregon  delega- 
tion:— 


im 
iru 


Washington,  D.  C,  January  27tli,  1873. 

Hon.  C.  Delano,  Secretary  Interior:  — 

Dear  Sir:  We  would  most  respectfully  submit  the 
following  notes  or  memoranda,  in  compliance  with 
your  request,  on  the  2oth,  that  we  should  embody  in 
writing  the  views  which  we  had  just  expressed  on 
the  situation  of  affairs  in  the  Klamath  and  Modoc 
country,  in  Southern  <')regon :  — 

The  Indians  and  military  are  incompatible.  They 
cannot  peaceably  dwell  in  contact.  Soldiers  should 
not  be  allowed  to  go  on  an  Indian  Reservation  at  all. 
An  agent  in  charge  of  an  Indian  Reservation  should 
have  the  right  to  determine  who  should  be  about  the 
Iteservation. 


I  1% 


I 


418 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


The  Modocs  and  the  Klamaths  have  been  at  war 
as  far  back  as  tradition  knows.  The  Klamath's  per- 
secute the  Modocs  when  the  Modocs  are  on  the 
Klamath  Reservation,  because  this  Reservation  is  in 
the  country  of  the  Klamaths.  This  is  a  most  irri- 
tating cause  of  discontent  with  the  Modocs.  The 
near  vicinity  of  the  Modocs  to  the  ancient  home  of 
their  fathers  adds  to  their  discontent.  Moreover,  the 
Modocs  do  not  understand  that  they  have  justly 
parted  ownership  with  their  old  home.  The  Modocs 
are  desperate.  Their  disposition  now  is  to  sell  their 
lives  as  dearly  as  possible;  not  to  submit  to  the 
military.  Active  military  operations  should  be  sus- 
pended immediately.  Soldiers  should  remain  in  guard 
only  (the  regulars)  of  the  settlements  against  a  raid 
by  those  Indians  until  a  peace  officer  reports  on  the 
situation. 

Because  to  undertake  to  drive  those  Indians  to  the 
Reservation  by  force  would  involve  a  considerable 
loss  of  life  and  property,  and  great  expense  to  the 
Government. 

Because  war  and  bloodshed  in  such  close  proximity 
to  Klamath  and  Yai-nax  would  produce  disaffection 
among  all  those  Indians,  which  would  continually 
augment  the  force  of  the  insurgents,  and  even 
endanger  a  general  uprising  and  breaking  up  of 
those  Reservations;  and  discontented  Indians  from 
everywhere  would  seek  the  hostile  camp,  and  make 
out  of  a  little  misunderstanding  a  great  war. 

Because  to  force  Indians  on  to  a  Reservation  by 
arms,  and  keep  them  there  against  their  will,  would 
require  a  standing  army  or  a  walled-up  Reservation. 

Because  those  Indians  already  know  that  the  Gov- 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


419 


trnment  is  able  to  annihilate  them.  There  is  nothing, 
therefore,  to  be  gained  in  merely  making  them  feel 
its  power.  Their  extermination  would  not  be  worth 
its  cost.  And,  moreover,  they  look  to  the  Govern- 
ment to  protect  them  against  local  mistake  and  wrong. 

Because  they  cannot,  under  the  present  juncture  of 
affairs,  be  taught  by  force  the  justice  of  the  Govern- 
ment; for,  to  them,  it  is  an  attempt  by  force  to  en- 
force an  injustice — to  force  them  to  abandon  their  ow  n 
home  and  leave  it  unoccupied,  while  they  are  quartered 
upon  the  Klamaths ;  to  use  the  wood,  water,  grass,  and 
fish  of  their  ancient  enemies,  and  endure  the  humilia- 
tion of  being  regarded  as  inferior,  because  dependants ; 
and  particularly  so  since  those  Indians  had  been 
quieted  for  some  time  with  the  assurance  that  their 
request  for  a  little  Reservation  of  their  own  would  be 
favorably  considered.  They,  therefore,  considei-ed 
the  appeal  to  the  military  to  be  premature,  as  a  defi- 
nite answer  to  their  petition  had  never  been  had.  Dif- 
ferent tribes  of  Indians  can  be  better  harmonized 
together  where  none  can  claim  original  proprietorship 
to  the  soil. 

The  Klamaths,  Yai-nax,  and  Modocs  all  ought  to 
be  removed  to  the  Coast  Reservation,  a  portion  of 
which,  lying  between  the  Siletz  and  Tillamook,  west 
of  the  Grand  Ronde,  capable  of  sustaining  a  large 
population,  remains  unoccupied,  abounding  in  fish, 
game,  and  all  the  products  of  the  soil  to  which 
Indians  are  accustomed. 

A  peace  commissioner  should  hasten  to  the  scene 
A  trouble  as  coming  from  the  "Great  Father"  of  all 
tb  0--  »!<!,  both  whites  and  Indians,  with  full  author- 
ity to  hear  and  adjust  all  the  difficulties. 


420 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


On  account  of  his  personal  acquaintance  with  those 
Indians  and  their  implicit  confidence  in  him,  we 
would  respectfully  suggest  and  recommend  Hon.  A. 
B.  Meacham  as  a  proper  man  to  appoint  as  a  peace 
commissioner  for  the  adjustment  of  difficulties  with 
those  tribes  and  the  carrying  out  of  the  policy  herein 
indicated. —  [Signed  as  above  stated.] 


The  day  following  the  filing  of  the  above  set  of 
^  Becauses  "  and  recommendations,  I  received  a  note 
inviting  me  to  the  Interior  Department.  When  noti- 
fied of  my  appointment  as  Chairman  of  the  Commis- 
sion, I  then  expressed  doubts  of  its  success,  giving, 
as  a  reason,  the  intense  feeling  of  the  western  peo- 
ple against  the  Modocs  and  any  peace  measures ;  also 
as  to  the  safety  of  the  commission  in  attempting  to 
negotiate  with  a  people  who  were  desperate,  and  had 
been  successful  in  every  engagement  with  the  Gov- 
eriiment  forces. 

Ii  is  well  loiown  at  the  department  in  "Washington 
that  I  accepted  the  appointment  with  reluctance,  and 
finally  yielded  my  wishes  on  the  urgent  solicitation 
of  the  Hon.  Secretary  of  the  Interior.  The  fact  that 
I  knew  the  Modocs  personally,  and  that  I  had  been 
successful,  while  Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs  for 
Oregon,  in  managing  them  peaceably  in  1869,  was 
given  as  one  reason.  Another  was,  the  sympathy  I 
had  for  them  on  account  of  the  treatment  of  them  by 
the  Klamaths ;  and  another  still,  humanity  for  the  sol- 
diers whose  lives  were  imperilled  by  the  effort  to 
make  peace  through  blood,  and  charity  for  a  poor, 
deluded  people,  whose  religious  infatuation  and  hot 
blood  had  forfeited   their  right   to  life  and  liberty. 


"WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


421 


My  heart  was  in  sympathy,  too,  with  the  poor,  be- 
reaved wives  and  mothers,  made  so  by  Modoc  treach- 
ery; but  I  did  not  beheve  that  doubhng  the  number 
of  widows  and  orphans  would  make  the  griefs  of 
the  mourners  less,  or  lighter  to  be  borne. 

The  sands  of  the  sage-brush  plains  had  drank  up 
the  blood  of  a  score  of  manly  hearts;  immersing  the 
lava  rocks  in  blood  could  not  make  the  dead  forms 
to  rise  again. 

"With  these  feelings,  and  fully  realizing  the  danger 
attending,  and  anticipating  the  opposition  that  would 
be  raised  agamst  the  commission,  I  left  Washington 
on  the  5th  of  February,  1873,  with  the  determination 
to  do  my  whole  duty,  despite  these  untoward  circum- 
stances. The  other  members  of  the  commission  were 
Hon.  Jesse  Applegate,  a  man  of  long  experience  on 
the  frontier,  possessed  of  eminent  qualities  for  such  a 
mission,  aside  from  his  personal  knowledge  ^f  exist- 
ing hostilities,  and  personal  acquaintance  with  the 
Modocs,  and  Samuel  Case,  who  was  then  acting  Indian 
Agent  at  Alsea,  Oregon.  Mr.  Case  has  had  long  ex- 
perience and  success  in  the  management  of  Indians ; 
these  qualities  were  requisite  in  treating  with  a  hostile 
people.  Both  these  appointments  were  made  on  my 
own  recommendatio7i^  based  on  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  these  gentlemen,  believing  them  fitted  for  the 
difficult  task  assigned  the  commission.  I  accepted 
the  chairmanship  more  cheerfully,  when  informed 
that  Gen.  Canby  would  act  as  counsellor  to  the 
commission,  knowing,  as  I  did,  his  great  experi- 
ence among  Indians,  and  the  ability  and  character 
which  he  would  bring  to  bear  upon  the  whole  sub- 
ject of  the  Modoc  trouble.     I  knew  hhu  to    be 


if 


I 


n 


i 


II 


I 


1 1 


422 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATII. 


humane  and  wise,  and  I  had  not  the  slightest  doubt 
of  his  integi'ity. 

The  following  letter  of  instructions  was  furnished 
for  the  guidance  of  the  commission. 

"With  these,  and  the  appointment  of  Messrs.  Apple- 
gate  and  Case,  I  went  to  the  head-quarters  of  Gen. 
Canby,  then  at  Fairchild's  Ranch,  twenty-five  miles 
from  the  Modoc  camp  in  the  Lava  Beds. 

I  arrived  at  Fairchild's  Ranch  on  the  19th  of  Feb- 
ruary, where  I  found  General  Canby,  Hon.  Jesse 
Applegate,  and  Agent  Samuel  Case. 

The  Commission  was  duly  organized,  and  immedi- 
ately began  operations  looking  towards  the  objects 
sought  to  be  accomplished. 

Communication  with  the  rebel  camp  had  been  sus- 
pended after  the  visit  of  Fairchild  and  Dorris.  To 
reopen  and  establish  it  was  the  first  work.  This  was 
not  easy  to  do  under  the  circumstances.  There  were 
several  Modoc  Indian  women  encamped  near  head- 
quarters; but  it  was  necessary  to  have  some  messen- 
ger more  reliable.  Livmg  but  a  few  miles  distant, 
was  a  man  whose  wife  was  a  Klamath,  and  who  was 
on  friendly  terms  with  the  Modocs.  This  man,  "Bob 
Whittle,"  was  sent  for,  with  a  request  to  bring  his 
wife  with  him.  On  his  arrival,  we  found  him  to  be  a 
man  of  sound  judgment,  and  his  wife  to  be  a  well- 
appearing  woman;  understanding  the  English  lan- 
guage tolerably  well. 

A  consultation  was  had,  and  we  decided  to  send 
this  Indian  woman  and  her  husband.  Bob  Whittle, 
and  "  One-eyed  Dixie,"  a  Modoc  woman,  with  a  mes- 
sage to  the  Modocs  in  the  Lava  Beds.  The  substance 
of  this  message  was,  that  a  commission  was  then  at 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


423 


Fairchild's  ready  to  talk  over  matters  with  them. 
This  expedition  was  very  hazardous. 

These  messengers  left  head-quarters  early  on  the 
morning  of  the  21st  of  February,  all  of  them  express- 
ing doubt  about  ever  returning.  Fairchild's  Kaneh 
(our  head-quarters)  is  sitii.ated  at  the  foot  of  a  moun- 
tain overlooking  the  route  to  the  Lava  Beds,  for 
several  miles.  "We  watched  the  mounted  messen- 
gers until  we  lost  sight  of  them  in  the  distance,  won- 
dering whether  we  should  ever  see  them  again. 

Talk  of  heroism  being  confined  to  race,  color,  or 
sex!  nonsense;  here  were  two  women  and  a  man, 
venturing  where  few  men  would  have  dared  go. 

They  returned  late  on  the  same  day,  unharmed, 
and  reported  having  been  in  the  Modoc  camp;  and 
bringing  with  them,  in  response  to  our  message,  the 
reply,  that  the  Modocs  were  willing  to  meet  Jolm 
Fairchild  and  Bob  Whittle,  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff, 
for  the  purpose  of  aiTanging  for  a  council  talk  with 
the  commission. 

Messrs.  Fairchild  and  "Whittle  were  despatched  on 
the  following  morning,  accompanied  by  Matilda  Wliit- 
tle  andi,  "  One-eyed  Dixie."  Mr.  Fairchild  was  in- 
structed to  announce  the  object  of  the  commission, 
and,  also,  who  were  its  members,  and  to  arrange  to 
meet  the  representative  men  of  the  Modocs,  on  some 
midway  ground,  with  such  precautionary  measures 
as  he  might  consider  necessary. 

He  was  also  instructed  to  explain  to  them  the  mean- 
ing of  an  armistice, —  that  no  act  of  war  would  he  com- 
mitted by  us,  or  permitted  by  them,  while  negotiations 
for  peace  were  going  on.  The  meeting  with  Captain 
Jack  was  had  by    Fairchild  and  party;  the  object 


.k;:fc 


I'i 


i 


424 


WIGWAM  AND   WABPATH. 


stated,  and  the  personnel  of  the  commission  made 
known.  Captain  Jack's  reply  was  that  he  was  readt/ 
to  make  peace;  that  he  did  not  ivisJi  to  fight^  but  he 
was  not  wilHng  to  come  out  of  the  Lava  Beds  to  meet 
us.  "  I  understand  you  about  not  fighting,  or  killing 
cattle,  or  stealing  horses.  Tell  your  people  they  need 
not  be  afraid  to  go  over  the  country  while  we  arc 
making  peace.  My  boys  will  stay  in  the  rocks  while 
it  is  being  settled;  we  will  not  fire  the  first  shot.  You 
can  go  and  hunt  your  cattle;  no  one  will  shoot  you. 
"We  will  not  begin  again  first.  I  want  to  see  Esquire 
Steele.  I  am  willing  to  meet  the  commissioners  at  the 
foot  of  the  bluff,  but  I  don't  want  them  to  come  with 
soldiers  to  make  peace.  The  solcHers  frighten  my 
boys." 

The  messengers  returned,  accompanied  by  two 
Modoc  warriors,  who  were  to  carry  back  our  answer. 
These  Modocs  were  Boston  Charley  and  Bogus 
Charley.  We  refused  to  go  to  the  foot  of  the  bluff 
unless  accompanied  by  an  escort  of  soldiers,  but  pro- 
posed to  meet  them  on  open  ground,  "  all  armed  "  or 
^^all  unarmed.''^  It  was  agreed  that  Esquire  Steele 
should  be  sent  for.  Bogus  and  Boston  returned  to 
the  Modoc  camp  with  the  results  of  the  interview. 
Steele  was  invited  to  head-quarters.  Gen.  Canby  re- 
quested by  telegraph  the  appointment  of  Judge  A. 
M.  Roseborough  as  a  conunissioner;  the  request  was 
granted,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the  23d,  Steele  and 
Roseborough  arrived. 

The  commission  now  nimibered  four.  The  Modocs 
had  refused  to  accept  all  propositions  for  a  meeting 
that  had  been  made  them,  so  far.  Communication 
was  now  had,  almost  daily,  between  the  commission- 


W1GWA3I  AND   WARPATH. 


425 


ers  and  Captain  Jack,  Frank  Riddle  and  his  Avife 
Tobey  acting  as  messengers  and  interpreters.  The 
Modocs  came  to  our  camp  in  small  numbers,  —  there 
they  c;imc  in  constant  communication  with  "squaw 
men"  (white  men  who  associate  with  Indian  women), 
whose  sympathy  was  with  them. 

From  these  they  learned  of  the  almost  universal 
thirst  for  vengeance,  —  of  the  indictments  by  the 
Jackson  county  courts  against  the  "Lost-river"  mur- 
derers; the  feelings  of  the  newspaper  press;  the 
l)rotest  of  the  Governor  of  Oregon;  all  of  which  was 
carried  into  the  Modoc  camp  by  such  men  as  Bogus 
and  Boston  Charley.  I  stop  here  to  say  that  these 
two  men  were  well  fitted  for  the  part  they  played  in 


the  tragic  event  of  which   I   am   writing.      Bogus 


Charley  was  a  full-blooded  Modoc,  whose  father  was 
lost  in  some  Indian  battle.  This  boy  was  born  on  a 
small  creek,  called  by  the  miners  Bogus  creek; 
hence  his  name.  He  was  not  more  than  twenty-one 
years  old  at  this  time.  He  had  lived  with  white  men 
at  various  times,  —  knew  something  of  civilized  life, — 
was  natm'ally  shrewd  and  cunning ;  the  Indians  called 
him  a  "double-hearted  man;"  and  my  r.aders  will 
honor  them  for  their  intelligence  by  the  time  we  reach 
the  gibbet,  where  Captain  Jack  answered  for  this 
man's  crimes. 

His  counterpart  may  be  found  in  civil  life  in  finely 
dressed  and  smooth-talking  white  men, — who  are  the 
scourges  of  good  society,  —  persons  who  are  all  things 
to  all  men,  and  true  to  none.  Boston  Charley  was 
still  younger,  —  not  over  nineteen  at  the  time  justice 
caught  him  by  the  neck  and  suspended  him  over  a 
coffin  at  Fort  Klamath,  November  3d,   1873.    He 


}M 


ti 


'fi 


iiu 


.  i 


*l 


426 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


I 


i  I' 


il 


>1 


was  so  named  on  account  of  his  light  complexion  and 
his  cunning;  and  as  the  Indian  said,  "Because  ho 
had  two  tongues ;  one  Indian  and  one  white."  His 
father,  a  Modoc,  died  a  natural  death.  He  had  no 
personal  cause  for  his  treachery,  and  perhaps  charity 
should  have  been  extended  to  him,  and  his  life  spared, 
because  he  was  " a  natural-horn  traitor"  according 
to  Modoc  theology,  and  not  to  blame  for  his  acts. 

However,  such  were  the  two  principal  messengers 
from  the  Modoc  camp  to  ours, — plausible  fellows,  who 
could  lie  without  the  slightest  scruples.  They  came, 
and  were  fed  and  clothed;  they  lyen^,  with  their  hearts 
full  of  falsehoods  that  had  been  told  them  by  whiskey- 
drinking  white  villains.     They,  too,  were  plausible 

fellows;    talked  with  the    old-fashioned    "D n- 

nigger-any-how  "  sort  of  a  way. 

Under  such  circumstances  it  was  a  somewhat  dif- 
ficult thing  to  arrange  a  council  with  the  Modocs  on 
reasonable  terms.  True,  the  Modocs  did  say  that 
they  had  been  told  by  white  men  that  if  Gen.  Canby 
and  the  commissioners  ever  got  them  in  their  power 
they  would  all  be  hung.  But  who  would  believe  a 
Modoc?  This  was  simply  an  excuse;  and,  then,  no 
one  in  all  that  country  would  have  done  such  a  thing. 
That  was  a  Modoc  lie.  J^Tobody  but  Modocs  ever  tell 
lies.  On  the  contrary,  every  ivJiite  man  was  honest. 
They  all  wanted  to  stop  the  war.  Of  course  they  did. 
Intimate  anything  else,  and  you  would  get  a  hundred 
invitations  to  "target  practice"  in  twenty-four  hours; 
or  else  you  would  fall  in  a  fit,  and  never  get  up 
again,  caused  by  remorse  of  conscience  for  mjuring 
some  imnamed  individual. 

On  the  arrival  of  Judge  Roseborough  and  Esquire 


I' 


WIGWAM   AND   WAKPATII. 


427 


Steele  the  commission  was  convened;  a  canvass  of 
the  situation  was  had.  Tlic  proposition  was  made  for 
Mr.  Steele  to  visit  the  Modoc  camp.  He  consented 
to  go,  believing  that  he  could  accomplish  the  object 
we  had  in  view.  lie  was  unwisely  instructed  to  offer 
terms  of  peace.  This  should  not  have  been  done. 
!No  terms  ever  shoidd  have  been  offered  through  a 
third  27(irti/,  —  Messrs.  lioseborough,  Case,  and  Ap- 
plegate  voting  for  this  measure.  No  one  questioned 
Mr.  Steele's  integrity  or  his  sagacity,  but  many  did 
question  the  propriety  of  sending  propositions  of 
peace  to  the  Modocs  through  a  third  party.  This 
gave  them  the  advantage  of  refusal,  and  of  the  advan- 
tage of  discussion  in  offering  alternatives.  Mi'.  Steele 
was  authorized  to  say  that  an  amnesty  for  all  offenders 
would  be  granted  on  the  condition  of  removal  to  a 
new  home  on  some  distant  Reservation,  to  be  selected 
by  the  Modocs;  they,  meanw^hile,  to  be  quartered  on 
"Angel  Island,"  in  San  Francisco  harl)or,  as  j9?'isowers 
of  war,  and  fed  and  clothed  at  Government  expense. 
Mr.  Steele  was  accompanied  on  this  mission  by 
Fairchild  and  "  Bill  Dad "  (correspondent  of  the 
"Sacramento  Record"),  and  also  one  or  two  other 
newspaper  correspondents,  —  Riddle  and  wife  as  in- 
terpreters. 

They  went  prepared  to  remain  over  night,  taking 
blankets  and  provisions.  The  Modocs  received  them 
with  evident  pleasure. 

After  the  usual  preliminaries  were  over,  the  peace 
talk  began.  Captain  Jack  made  a  long  speech,  re- 
peating the  history  of  the  past,  throwing  all  the 
responsibility  on  to  the  messengers  sent  by  Superin- 
tendent Odeneal,  denying  that  either  he  or  his  people 


I 


I 


.■::\     I 
M 


illliifci'l* 

iti|*:rs, 

m 


r'l-'Ji';!;: 


■I 


428 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Ill 


had  ever  committed  crime  until  attacked  by  the  sol- 
diers; that  he  was  anxious  for  peace.  Mr.  Steele 
made  the  i)roposition  to  come  out  of  the  Lava  Beds 
and  go  to  a  new  home. 

Steele's  speech  was  apparently  v-ell  received,  and 
an  arrangement  was  made  whereby  several  Modocs 
were  to  return  with  him  to  the  head-quarters  of  the 
commission.  Nothing  of  an  alarming  character 
occurred.  The  party  returned  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
second  day,  accompanied  by  "  Queen  Mary "  (sister 
of  Captain  Jack),  "Bogus  Charley,"  "Hooker  Jim," 
"  Long  Jim,"  "  Boston  Charley,"  "  Shacknasty  Jim," 
"  Dufly,"  "  William,"  "  Curly-haired  Jask." 

We  were  on  the  lookout,  and  when  the  now  en- 
larged party  came  in  sight  they  made  an  imposing 
appearance.  Steele  was  in  advance,  and,  raising  his 
hat,  saluted  our  ears  with  the  thrilling  words,  "  They 
accept  peace,"  Couriers  to  ride  to  Y-re-ka  were  or- 
dered, despatches  prepared  for  the  departments,  and 
the  various  newspapers.  A  general  feeling  of  relief 
was  manifest  everywhere  around  can)p.  AYe  felt  that 
a  great  victory  over  blood  and  carnage  had  been  won, 
and  that  our  hazardous  labors  were  nearly  over. 
Letters  of  congratulation  were  being  prepared  to 
send  to  friends,  and  all  was  happiness  and  joy,  when 
our  gray-eyed  friend,  who  was  with  the  party,  put  a 
sudden  check  on  the  exuberant  feelings,  by  saying, 
"  I  don't  tliink  the  Modocs  agreed  to  accept  the  terms 
offered.  True,  they  responded  to  Steele's  speech,  but 
7iot  in  that  way.  I  tell  you  they  do  not  understand 
that  they  have  agreed  to  surrender  yet,  oa  any  terms.^* 

Mr.  Steele  repeated  his  declaration,  and  the  s  leechcs, 
as  reported  by  "  Bill  Dad,"  were  read,  from  ;\  liich  it 


5> 


his 


?? 


WIGWAM  AND   AVARPATH. 


429 


appeared  they  had  greeted  Steele's  peace-talk  with 
applause.  The  Modocs,  who  came  in  with  Steele  and 
his  party,  were  called  np  and  questioned  as  to  the 
understanding.  They  were  reticent,  saying  they 
came  out  to  hear  what  was  said,  and  not  to  talh. 

!N'o  expression  could  bj  obtained  from  them.  Of 
the  success  of  his  mission,  Steele  was  so  confident 
that  he  proposed  to  return  the  next  day  to  Captain 
Jack's  camp,  and  reassure  hin^-'.lf  and  the  commis- 
sion. He  accordingly  started  early  the  next  mornmg, 
accompanied  by  the  Modocs  who  came  out  with  him, 
and  "  Bill  Dad "  (the  scribe) .  Mr.  Fairchild  was 
invited,  but  he  declined  with  a  peculiarly  slow  swing- 
ing of  his  head  from  side  to  side,  that  said  a  great 
deal;  especially  when  he  shut  his  eyes  closely,  whil", 
so  doing.  Riddle,  also,  objected  to  going,  but  con- 
sented to  let  his  wife  Tobey  go. 

The  party  left  behind  them  eome  minds  full  of 
anxiety,  especially  when  reflecting  on  Fairchild's 
panto'uime. 

The  Modocs,  who  were  returning  with  Steele, 
reached  the  stronghold  some  time  before  he  did.  On 
his  arrival,  the  greeting  made  his  "  hair  stand  on 
end,''^ — he  saw  fearful  possibilities.  It  required  no 
words  to  convince  him  that  he  had  been  mistaken. 
He  realized,  in  a  moment,  the  great  peril  of  the  hour. 
The  slightest  exhibition  of  fear  on  his  part  would  have 
closed  up  his  career,  and  the  scribe's,  also.  Steele's 
long  experience  with  the  Indians  had  not  fully  qual- 
ified him  to  inidcrstand  them  in  council;  hut  \t  had 
taught  him  that  real  courage  commands  respect  even 
I'rom  infuriated  savages. 

He   sought  to  appear  indifferent  to  the  changed 


l!i''" 


tm 


430 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


ii  ?■ 


manner,  and  extended  his  hand  to  the  chief,  who  ex- 
changed the  greetings  with  great  caution,  though 
giving  Steele  to  understand  that  he  was  still  his 
friend. 

The  council  w^as  opened,  the  chief  remarking  that 
they  had  not  yet  shown  their  hearts;  that  his  friend 
Steele  had  missed  some  of  his  words. 

Steele  replied  that  he  was  their  friend,  and  that  he 
would  not,  knowingly,  misrepresent  them. 

Schonchin  accused  him  of  being  a  traitor  to  the 
Modocs,  and  of  telling  falsehoods  about  them;  and, 
more  by  manner  than  by  word,  intimated  that  he  was 
done  talking  peace,  showing  a  bad  heart  in  his  action, 
sufficiently  to  enlighten  Steele  on  the  most  important 
thing  in  the  world  to  him,  namely,  that  Schonchin  did 
not  intend  to  give  Steele  another  opportunity  to  mis- 
represent the  Modocs. 

Steele's  courage  and  coolness  saved  him.  He  said 
to  Schonchin,  "  I  do  not  want  to  ^alk  to  a  man  when 
his  heart  is  bad.     We  will  talk  again  to-morrow." 

The  council  was  dissolved,  the  Modoc j  scattering 
about  the  camp,  or  gathering  in  little  squads,  and 
talking  in  low  tones. 

The  indications  w^ere,  that  the  time  for  saying 
prayers  had  come,  at  least  for  Steele  and  Bill  Dad. 

Captain  Jack  and  Scar-faced  Charley  demonstrated 
that  manhood  and  fidelity  may  be  found  even  in 
Indian  camps.  They,  without  saying  in  words  that 
Steele  and  Bill  Dad  were  in  danger,  told  them  to 
sleep  in  Jack's  camp,  and  proceeded  to  prepare  the 
night-bed.  Our  messengers  trustmgly  lay  down  to 
rest,  if  not  to  sleep,  while  Scar-faced  Charley,  Jack 
and  Queen  Mary,  stood  guard  over  their  friends. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


431 


Several  times  in  the  night,  Steele  looked  from  under 
the  blankets,  to  see  each  time  his  self-appointed 
guards  standing  sentinel  in  silence. 

All  night  long  they  remained  at  their  posts,  and  it 
was  well  for  Steele  and  Bill  Dad  that  they  did;  other- 
wise they  would  have  been  sent  off,  that  very  night, 
to  the  other  side  of  the  "  dark  river. " 

The  morning  came  and  the  council  reassembled ;  the 
signs  of  murder  were  not  wanting.  Angiy  words 
and  dark  hints  told  the  feehng. 

Steele,  relying  on  the  friendship  of  Captain  Jack 
and  Scarface  Charley,  proposed  that  he  would  return 
to  the  head-quarters  of  the  commission,  and  bring 
with  them  all  the  commissioners  the  next  lay. 

This  strategy  was  successful.  He  was  pei*mitted 
to  depart  on  his  promise  to  lead  the  commission  to  the 
Modoc  slaughter-pen.  On  his  arrival  at  our  camp  he 
looked  some  older  than  when  he  left  the  morning  pre- 
vious. 

He  admitted  that  he  had  been  mistaken,  detailing, 
without  attempt  at  concealment,  that  he  had  escaped 
only  by  promising  that  the  commission  should  visit 
the  Lava  Beds  unarmed;  but  with  candor  declared 
that  if  they  went  they  would  be  murdered;  that  the 
Modocs  were  desperate,  and  were  disjDosed  to  recall 
the  Ben  Wright  affair,  and  dwell  upon  it  in  a  way 
that  indicated  their  thirst  for  revenge. 

The  department  at  "Washington  was  informed  by 
telegi'aph,  and  also  by  letter,  of  the  progress  of 
negotiations  from  time  to  time,  and  always,  ivithout 
exception^  hy  the  advice  and  approhation  of  Gen. 
Canhy. 

On  Steele's  return,  as  Chairman  of  the  Peace  Com- 


'»Si 


||,.u: 


^•|-^•    la 

i 


M!* 


M 


432 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


mission,  I  telegraphed  the  foots  above  referred  to,  and 
that  it  was  the  opinion  of  trie  commission,  concurred 
in  by  Gen.  Canby,  that  treachery  was  intended,  and 
that  the  mission  could  not  succeed,  and  that  we  were 
awaiting  orders;  to  which  we  received  +he  following 
reply :  — 

Department  ot-  i*.B  Interiob,  March  5,  l&(-5, 

A.  B.  Meacham,  Faircliild's  Itancli,via  Yreka^  CctL: 
I  do  not  believe  the  Modocs  mean  treachery.  The 
mission  should  not  be  a  failure.  Think  I  understand 
now  their  unwillingness  to  confide  in  you.  Continue 
negotiations. 

Will  consult  President,  and  have  War  Department 
confer  with  General  Canby  to-morrow. 

C.  DELANO, 

Secretai'y. 

The  camp  wore  a  gloomy  aspect.  The  soVlicrs 
who  had  been  with  Maj.  Jackson  on  Lost  river,  and 
with  Gen.  "VVheaton  in  the  Lava  Beds,  were  anxious 
for  peace  on  any  terms. 

Another  fight  was  not  desirable.  They  were  real 
friends  to  the  Peace  Commission.  The  field-glasses 
were  often  turned  toward  the  trail  leading  to  the 
Lava  Beds. 

Late  one  evening,  a  small  squad  of  Modocs  were 
seen  coming.  Hope  began  to  dawn  again  on  the 
camp.  When  they  arrived,  "  Queen  Mary,"  speaking 
for  her  brother,  proposed,  ^^^nt  if  Gen.  Canby  would 
send  wagons  and  teams  to  meet  them  half  way,  the 
Modocs  would  all  come  out  and  sur)-ender. 

The    proposition  was    accepted,  the    commission 


WIGWAM    AND   WARPATH. 


433 


three  to  one,  to  turn  the  whole  matter  over  to  Gen. 
Canby;  meanwhile  awaiting  the  confirmation  of  the 
Secretary  of  the  Interior  of  the  above  action. 

Gen.  Canby,  accepting  the  charge  conferred  by  this 
unwarranted  action  of  our  board,  assumed  the  man- 
agement of  affairs ;  and  the  chairman  could  only  look 
on,  giving  opinions  when  requested  by  Gen.  Canby, 
though  confident  that  it  was  not  the  intention  of  the 
Department  of  the  Inferior  to  transfer  this  matter  to 
the  Department  of  War  at  that  time.  The  telegi-aph 
station  was  at  Y-re-ka,  sixty  miles  from  head-quar- 
ters ;  hen<^'e  two  to  three  days  were  required  to  receive 
replies  to  telegrams. 

Gen.  Canby,  anxious  for  peace,  —  as,  indeed,  he 
always  was,  from  humane  motives  toward  his  soldiers 
and  the  Indians  also,  because  he  believed  in  the  prin- 
ciple, —  attempted  to  settle  the  difficulties,  and,  know- 
mg  it  to  be  the  policy  of  the  President,  accepted  the 
terms  offered.  Mary  and  the  men  who  canie  out  with 
her  returned  to  the  Lava  Beds,  with  the  distinct  un- 
derstanding that  the  teams  would  be  sent  witkont  a 
squad  of  soldiers  to  a  point  designated,  and  that  on 
the  following  Monday  all  the  Modocs  would  be  there. 

When  Gen.  Canby  assumed  the  control  of  this 
affair,  he  conducted  his  councils  without  Riddle  and 
his  wife  as  interpreters,  although  they  were  present, 
and  were  in  Government  employ  by  the  commis- 
sion. 

For  some  reason  he  became  prejudiced  against 
them,  and  did  not  recognize  them  as  interpreters. 
This  fact  was  observed  by  the  Modocs,  and  they  were 
anxious  to  know  why  this  was  so. 

Before  leaving,  "  Boston,"  who  was  with  Mary,  sig- 


^11 


434 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


.-:,      !S 


nified  to  Tobey  (Mrs.  Riddle),  that  she  would  not 
see  him  again,  saying :  "  If  you  ever  see  me,  I  will  pay 
you  for  the  saddle  I  borrowed." 

Tobe;,,  feeling  incensed  at  the  treatment  received, 
was  reticent,  and,  Indian-like,  kept  quiet,  saying 
nothing  of  her  suspicions. 

The  day  before  the  time  for  surrender  another  mes- 
senger came  from  the  Modocs,  saying  that  they  could 
not  get  ready,  that  they  were  burning  their  dead,  but 
promising  that  two  days  hence  they  would  surely 
come. 

Gen.  Canby  accepted  the  apology,  and  assured  the 
messenger  that  the  teams  would  be  sent. 

Meanwhile,  the  report  went  out  that  the  war  was 
over,  much  to  the  disquiet  of  those  who  were  anxious 
to  secure  U.  S.  greenbacks. 

The  day  previous  to  the  proposed  s'.iTender,  Riddle 
and  his  wife  expressed  to  me  their  opinion,  that  if  the 
teams  were  sent  they  would  be  capturedy  or  that  no 
Modocs  would  meet  them,  to  surrender. 

I  sought  an  interview  with  Gen.  Canby,  giving 
him  the  opinions  I  had  formed  from  Riddle's  talk. 

The  general  called  Riddle  and  his  wife  to  his  quar- 
ters. They  repeated  to  him  what  they  had  previously 
said  to  me.  He  consulted  Gen.  Gilliam,  and  concluded 
that  Mrs.  Riddle  either  did  not  know,  or  was  working 
into  the  hands  of  the  INIodocs,  or,  perhaps,  was  influ- 
enced in  some  way  by  those  who  were  opposed  to 
peace. 

At  all  events,  on  the  morning  fixed  upon,  tlio  teams 
were  sent  out,  under  charge  of  Mr.  Steele.  Man)  an 
anxious  eye  followed  them  until  they  passed  out  of 
siglit. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


435 


The  hours  dragged  slowly  by  for  their  return;  but 
so  sanguine  were  Gen.  Canby  and  Gen.  Gilliam  that 
tents  were  prepared  for  their  accommodation,  one 
was  designated  as  "  Captain  Jack's  Marquee,"  another 
as  "Schonchin's,"and  so  on,  through  the  row  of  white 
canvas  tents. 

Mr.  Applegate  was  so  certain  that  they  would  come 
that  he  left  the  head-quarters  for  home,  and  reported 
en  route :  "  The  war  is  over.  The  Modocs  have  sur- 
rendered." 

The  soldiers  were  ready  and  anxious  to  welcome 
the  heroes  of  the  Lava  Beds.  The  sentiment  was  not 
universal  that  the  wagons  would  return  loaded  with 
Indians. 

Our  keen-sighted,  gray-eyed  man  shook  his  head. 
"  I  don't  think  they  will  come.  They  are  not  going 
to  Angel  Island,  as  prisoners  of  war,  just  yet." 

Riddle  and  wife  were  in  distress;  their  warning 
had  been  disregarded,  their  opinions  dishonored,  their 
integrity  doubted. 

Every  field-glass  was  turned  on  the  road  over 
which  the  wagons  were  to  come.  Four  o'clock  P.  M., 
no  teams  in  sight.  Five,  —  no  Indian  yet;  and, 
finally,  as  the  shadow  of  the  mountain  fell  over  the 
valley,  the  glasses  discovered,  first,  Mr.  Steele  alone, 
and  soon  the  empty  wagons  came  slowly  down  the 
rortd. 

Darkness  covered  the  valley,  and  also  the  hearts 
of  those  who  really  desired  peace.  But  a  new  hope 
was  now  revived  in  the  hearts  of  those  who,  from 
near  and  afar,  were  clamoring  for  the  blood  of  the 
Modocs. 

Another  delegation  arrived  from  the  Modoc  camp, 


430 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


saying,  "The  Modocs  could  not  agree;  they  wanted 
more  time  to  think  about  it." 

The  truth  is,  that  they  failed  to  agree  about  cap- 
turing the  teams.  Jack  and  Scar-face  were  opposed 
to  it.  The  authorities  at  Washington  were  informed 
of  this  failure,  also;  and  they  replied  to  the  commis- 
sion, "  Continue  negotiations."  Mr.  Case  resigned ; 
Judge  Roseborough  returned  to  his  duties  on  the 
bench. 

Gen.  Canby  notified  the  Modocs  that  no  more 
trifling  would  be  tolerated.  Recruits  were  coming 
daily,  —  one  company,  passing  near  the  Lava  Beds, 
captured  about  thirty  Modoc  ponies.  Gen.  Canby 
moved  his  head-quarters  to  Yan  Bremen's,  a  few 
miles  nearer  the  Lava  Beds. 

I  suggested  to  General  Canby,  that  the  capture  of 
horses  was  in  violation  of  the  armistice,  and  that  they 
should  be  returned.  The  general  objected,  saying, 
that  they  should  be  well  cared  for  and  turned  over 
when  peace  was  made. 

Dr.  Eleazer  Thomas,  of  California,  at  the  request 
of  Senator  Sargent,  was  added  to  the  commission,  as 
was,  also,  Mr.  Dyer,  agent  of  the  Klamath  Indians. 

Dr.  Thomas  brought  with  him  a  long  and  suc- 
cessful experience  as  a  minister  of  the  Methodist 
Church.  He  had  lived  on  the  Pacific  coast  for 
eighteen  years;  but  he  had  little  experience  or 
knowledge  of  Indians.  Being  a  man  of  great  purity 
of  character  and  untiring  energy,  coupled  with  a 
hiunane  heart  and  active  hand,  he  threw  himself  into 
this  new  mission  with  earnestness,  and  was  impatient 
to  begin  to  do  something  towards  the  accomplishment 
of  peace. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


437 


Gen.  Canby  was  sending  out  exploring  parties  of 
armed  mounted  men  occasionally,  —  the  ostensible 
object  of  which  was  to  obtain  a  better  knowledge  of 
the  country  around  the  Lava  Beds,  with  a  view  to 
moving  the  army  nearer  the  Modocs.  The  commis- 
sion was  not  informed  of  these  expeditions,  or  their 
objects,  by  Gen.  Canby,  but  through  other  parties. 

On  one  occasion.  Dr.  Thomas  went  out  with  a 
company,  and  while  surveying  the  Lava  Beds  at  a 
distance,  they  met  several  Modocs,  with  whom  he 
talked,  and  succeeded  in  reopening  communication. 

A  delegation  of  Indians  visted  the  new  camp  at 
Van  Bremens.  Every  effort  made  through  them  to 
secure  a  meeting  with  the  Board  of  Commissioners 
and  Modocs  failed. 

Gen.  Canby  notified  the  Modoc  chief  of  his  in- 
tention to  change  the  position  of  the  army,  so  that  the 
communications  might  be  more  easily  made;  and, 
also,  that  he  would  not  commence  hostilities  against 
them  unless  they  provoked  an  attack. 

Captain  Jack's  reply  was,  that  he  would  not  "  fire 
the  fii'st  shot;"  but,  through  his  messengers,  he  asked 
a  return  of  his  horses. 

Indians  have  great  love  for  their  horses.  "WTien  a 
small  company  of  the  Modoc  v^omen  came  in  asking 
for  their  ponies,  they  were  denied  them,  but  were 
permitted  to  go  under  guard  to  the  coiTal  and  see 
them.  It  was  a  touching  scene,  —  those  Indian  women 
caressing  their  ponies.  They  turned  sadly  away, 
when  compelled,  by  orders,  to  leave  the  corral. 

The  fact  is,  several  of  these  ponies  had  already  been 
appropriated  for  the  use  of  young  soldiers,  at  home, 
when  the  ^v^ar  should  be  over. 


!!! 


H 


0  . 


I 


(I 


11  ^1 


I 


438 


AVIOWAM  AND  WAUPATH. 


On  the  last  day  of  March,  1873,  the  camp  at  Van 
Brcmcns  wus  broken  up,  and  the  army  was  put  in 
motion  for  the  Lava  Beds. 

I  was  never  shown  any  order  from  either  depart- 
ment, at  Washington  city,  that  authorized  this  move- 
ment, though  I  do  not  doubt  Gen.  Canby  felt  justified 
in  so  doing. 

The  commission  was  notified  —  not  consulted.  "We 
were  under  instructions  "  in  no  wise  to  interfere  with 
the  army  movement,  but  always,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  confer  and  co-operate  with  Gen.  Canby." 

Four  days  were  occupied  in  moving.  We  arrived 
at  the  top  of  the  bluff  overlooking  this  now  historic 
spot  of  rocks,  about  noon  of  the  second  day. 

How  little  we  knew  then  of  the  near  future,  when 
Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  would  be  carried,  in 
rough-made  coffins,  up  the  zigzag  road  that  we  went 
down  on  that  day! 

Our  new  camp  was  pitched  near  the  foot  of  this 
high  bluff,  and  immediately  on  the  shore  of  the  lake. 
From  it,  with  a  field-glass,  we  could  see  Capt.  Jack's 
people  moving  around  their  rocky  home,  not  more 
than  one  mile  and  a  half,  air-line,  though  two  miles 
around  by  land. 

While  my  memory  is  still  green  with  the  scenes 
that  followed,  and  I  have  not  justified  and  will  not 
justify  or  seek  to  palliate  the  crimes  of  the  Modocs, 
still  I  cannot  forget  some  of  the  meditations  of  the 
half  hour  I  sat  with  Dr.  Thomas,  when  half-way  down 
the  bluff,  up  which  I  was  not  to  go  at  all,  and  the 
doctor  only  as  a  corpse. 

I  have  recollections  yet  of  a  part,  at  least,  of  the 
conversation  between  us.     We  were  representing  one 


WIOWAM   AND   WAUrAXn. 


489 


of  the  most  powerful  governments  in  the  world,  and 
bearing  peace  and  human  kindness  in  our  hearts, 
while  passing  us,  as  we  sat,  were  the  sinews  of  war, 
—  armed  soldiers  by  the  hundred.  Cannon  were  be- 
ing dragged  down  the  hill,  tents  were  being  erected, 
and  all  the  ch'cumstance  of  military  power  and  display 
was  at  our  feet  or  above  us,  hastening  to  compel  an 
infuriated,  misguided  people  to  acknowledge  the 
authority  of  our  Government. 

Over  yonder,  within  range  of  our  glasses,  were  a  half- 
hundred  men,  unlettered,  uncivilized,  and  infuriated  by 
a  superstitious  religious  faith,  that  urged  them  to  reject 
the  "  olive-branch  "  which  we  came  to  offer  them. 

We  could  see  beyond  them  another  army  of  ten 
times  their  number,  camping  nearer  to  them. 

The  doctor  was  moved  by  deep  feeling  of  compas- 
sion for  them,  and  spoke  very  earnestly  of  their  help- 
less condition,  —  benighted  in  mind,  without  enough 
of  the  great  principles  of  Christian  justice  and  power 
to  recognize  and  respect  the  individual  rights  of 
others.  Doomed  as  a  race,  hopeless  and  in  despair, 
they  sat  on  their  stony  cliffs,  around  their  caves,  and 
counted  the  men,  and  horses,  and  guns,  that  came 
down  the  hill  to  malce  peace  with  them,  turning  their 
eyes  only  to  see  the  sight  repeated. 

Look  nearer  at  the  boys  with  blue  dress,  as  they 
pass  us,  bearing  camp  equipage.  Many  of  the  men 
are  going  down  this  hill  to  stai/y  unless  we  can  make 
peace  with  the  Modocs.  Our  hearts  g'ow  sick  at  the 
thoughts  suggested  by  our  surroundings. 

Mutually  pledging  anew  to  stand  together  for  peace 
a&  long  as  there  was  a  hope,  we  slowly  followed  down 
to  the  camp. 


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WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


I  cannot  forbear  mentioning  an  accident  of  the 
evening. 

Gen.  Canby's  tent  was  partly  up  when  I  passed 
near  him.  He  said,  "Well, Mr.  Meacham, where  is 
your  tent?"  —  " It  has  not  come,"  I  replied. 

The  general  ordered  the  men  to  pull  up  the  pins 
and  move  his  tent  to  the  site  we  had  selected  for  ours. 
It  was  only  by  the  most  earnest  entreaty  on  our  part 
that  he  countermanded  the  order,  and  then  only  on 
our  promise  to  share  his  tent  with  him,  if  ours  was  not 
put  up  in  time  for  us  to  occupy  for  the  night. 

On  the  day  following  our  arrival  a  meeting  was 
had  with  the  Modocs.  On  our  part.  Gen.  Canby,  Gen. 
Gilliam,  Dr.  Thomas,  Mr.  Dyer  and  myself,  Frank 
niddle  and  Tobey  as  interpreters.  Some  of  our  party 
were  armed;  others  were  not.  Riddle  and  his  wife 
Tobey  were  suspicious  of  treachery,  and  said,  as  we 
went,  "  3e  sure  to  mix  up  with  the  Modocs;  don't  let 
them  get  you  in  a  bunch." 

"  Boston,"  who  had  come  to  our  camp  to  arrange  for 
the  meeting,  led  the  way.  "VVe  saw  arising,  apparently 
out  of  the  rocks,  a  smoke.  When  we  arrived  we 
found  Captain  Jack,  and  the  principal  men  of  his  band, 
and  about  half-a-dozen  women  standing  by  a  fire  built 
in  a  low,  rocky  basin. 

Dr.  Thomas  was  the  first  to  descend.  He  did  not 
seem  to  observe,  indeed  he  did  not  observe,  that  we 
were  going  entirely  out  of  sight  of  the  field-glasses  at 
our  camp. 

The  place  suggested  treachery,  especially  after  Rid- 
dle's warning.  I  scanned  the  rocks  around  the  rim  of 
the  basin,  but  did  not  see  ambushed  men;  neverthe- 
less, I  had  some  misgiving;  but  it  was  too  late  to  re- 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


441 


treat  then,  and  to  have  refused  to  join  the  council 
would  have  invited  an  attack.  The  greetings  were 
cordial;  nothing  that  indicated  danger  except  the 
place,  and  the  fact  that  there  were  three  times  as  many 
Indians  as  "  Boston  "  had  said  would  be  there.  One  re- 
assuring circumstance  was  the  presence  of  their 
women.  But  this  may  have  been  only  a  blind.  After 
smoking  the  pipe  of  peace  the  talk  opened,  each  one 
of  our  party  making  short  speeches  in  favor  of  peace, 
and  showing  good  intentions.  The  chief  replied  in  a 
short  preliminary  talk;  Schonchin  also.  We  stated 
our  object,  and  explained  why  the  soldiers  were  brought 
so  closely,  —  that  we  wanted  to  feel  safe. 

Thus  passed  nearly  an  hour,  when  an  incident 
occurred  that  caused  some  of  our  party  to  change 
position  very  quietly. 

Hooker  Jim  said  to  Mr.  Riddle,  "  Stand  aside,  —  get 
out  of  the  way! "  in  Modoc.  Some  of  us  understood 
what  it  meant.  Tobey  moved  close  to  our  party  and 
reprimanded  Hooker.  Captain  Jack  said  to  him, 
«  Stop  that." 

This  lava  bed  country  being  at  an  altitude  of  four 
thousand  five  hundred  feet,  and  immediately  under 
the  lee  of  high  mountains  on  the  west,  is  subject  to 
heavy  storms. 

While  we  were  talking,  a  black  cloud  overspread 
the  rocks  and  a  rain-storm  came  on. 

Gen.  Canby  remarked  that  "We  could  not  talk 
in  the  rain."  Captain  Jack  seemed  to  treat  the 
remark  with  ridicule,  though  the  interpreters  omitted 
to  mention  the  fact.  He  said  "  The  rain  was  a  small 
matter; "  that  "  Gen.  Canby  was  better  clothed  than  he 
was,"  but  "he    (Jack)  would  not  melt  like  snow." 


■a-  %■ 


S'JI 


442 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


Gen.  Canby  proposed  to  erect  a  council  tent  on  half- 
way ground,  where  subsequent  meetings  could  be 
held. 

This  proposition  was  agreed  to,  and  just  as  the 
storm  was  at  its  height. 

No  agreement  was  made  for  another  meeting, 
athough  it  was  understood  that  negotiations  would  be 
continued. 


CHAPTER     XXVII. 


CAPTAIN  JACK  A  DIPLOMAT  —  SHOOT  ME  IP  YOU  DARE. 


On  the  following  day  the  council  tent  was  erected 
in  a  comparatively  smooth  pioc  of  land,  in  the  Lava 
Beds,  care  being  taken  to  select  a  site  as  far  as  possi- 
ble from  rocks  that  might  answer  for  an  ambuscade. 

This  place  was  less  than  one  mile  from  our  camp, 
and  a  little  more  than  a  mile  from  the  Modocs.  Mean- 
while the  signal  corps  had  established  communication 
between  the  two  army  camps.  The  signal  station  at 
our  camp  was  half  way  up  the  bluflf,  and  commanded 
a  view  of  the  council  tent,  and  of  the  trail  leading 
to  it  from  the  Modoc  stronghold,  as  it  did  of  the 
entire  Lava  Beds. 

Col.  Mason's  command  being  on  the  opposite  side 
of  Captain  Jack's  head-quarters,  from  our  camp,  the 
three  were  almost  in  a  line.  Communication  was  also 
established  between  the  army  camps,  with  boats  going 
from  one  to  the  other,  and,  in  doing  so,  passing  in 
full  view  of  the  Modocs. 

The  Modocs  were  permitted  to  visit  the  head-quar- 
ters during  the  day,  and  to  mix  and  mingle  with  the 
officers  and  men.  The  object  of  this  liberty  was  to 
convince  them  of  the  friendly  intentions  of  the  army, 
and  also  of  its  power,  as  they  everywhere  saw  the 
arms  and  munitions  of  war.  They  were  also  permit- 
ted to  examine  the  shell  mortars  and  the  shells  them- 
selves. 


pi- 


444 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


On  one  occasion  Bogus  Charley  and  Hooker  Jim 
observed  the  signal  telegraph  working,  and  inquired 
the  meaning  of  it.  They  were  told  by  Gen.  Gilliam 
that  he  was  talking  to  the  other  camp ;  that  he  knew 
what  was  going  on  over  there ;  they  were  also  in- 
formed that  Col.  Mason  would  move  up  nearer  to 
thc'r  camp  in  a  few  days,  and  that  he.  Gen.  Gilliam, 
would  move  his  camp  on  to  the  little  flat  very  near 
Captain  Jack's.  "But  don't  you  shoot  my  men. 
I  won't  shoot  your  men,  but  I  am  going  over  there  to 
see  if  everything  is  all  right."  Gen.  Gilliam  also 
informed  them  that,  **  in  a  few  days,  one  hundred 
Warm  Spring  braves  would  be  there." 

These  things  excited  the  Modocs  very  much.  Bo- 
gus Charley  questioned  General  Gilliam,  "What  for 
you  talk  over  my  home?  I  no  like  that.  What  for 
the  Warm  Springs  come  here?  "  Receiving  no  sat- 
isfactory reply,  they  went  to  Fairchild,  who  was  in 
camp,  and  expressed  much  dissatisfaction  on  account 
of  the  signal  telegi'aph,  and  the  coming  of  the  Warm 
Spring  Indians. 

On  the  5th  of  April  Captain  Jack  sent  Boston 
Charley,  with  a  request  for  old  man  Meacham  to  meet 
him  at  the  council  tent,  and  to  bring  John  Fair- 
child  along.  This  message  was  laid  before  the  board. 
It  was  thought,  both  by  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas, 
to  be  fraught  with  danger.  I  did  not,  and  I  assumed 
the  responsibility  of  going  this  time;  inviting  Mr. 
Fairchild,  and  taking  Riddle  and  his  wife  as  inter- 
preters, I  went. 

Judge  Roseborough  arrived  in  camp,  and  came  on 
after  we  had  reached  the  council  tent. 

Captain  Jack  was  on  the  ground,  accompanied  by 


Wl-HB-MAH     (ToBBT). 


i; 


WIQWAM  AMD   WARPATH. 


447 


his  wives  and  seven  or  eight  men.  On  this  occasion 
he  talked  freely,  saying,  substantially,  that  he  felt 
afraid  of  Gen.  Canby,  on  account  of  his  military 
dress;  and,  also,  of  Dr.  Thomas,  because  he  was  a 
Sunday  doctor;  but  "now  I  can  talk.  I  am  not 
afraid.  I  know  you  and  Fairchild.  I  know  your 
hearts."  He  reviewed  the  circumstances  that  led  to 
the  war,  nearly  in  the  order  they  have  been  referred 
to  in  this  volume,  and  differing  in  no  material  point, 
except  that  he  blamed  Superintendent  Odeneal  for  not 
coming  in  person  to  see  him  while  on  Lost  river,  say- 
ing, "that  he  would  not  have  resisted  him.  Take 
away  the  soldier,  and  the  war  will  stop.  Give  me  a 
home  on  Lost  river.  I  can  take  care  of  my  people. 
I  do  not  ask  anybody  to  help  me.  We  can  make  a 
living  for  ourselves.  Let  us  have  the  same  chance 
that  other  men  have.  We  do  not  want  to  ask  an 
agent  where  we  can  go.  We  are  men;  we  are  not 
women." 

I  replied,  that,  "  since  blood  has  been  spilled  on 
Lost  river,  you  cannot  live  there  in  peace;  the  blood 
would  always  come  up  between  you  and  the  white 
men.  The  army  cannot  be  withdrawn  until  all  the 
troubles  are  settled." 

After  sitting  in  silence  a  few  moments,  he  replied, 
"  I  hear  your  words.  I  give  up  my  home  on  Lost 
river.  Give  me  this  lava  bed  for  a  home.  I  can 
live  here;  take  away  your  soldiers,  and  we  can  settle 
everything.  Nobody  will  ever  want  these  rocks; 
give  me  a  home  here." 

Assured  that  no  peace  could  be  had  while  he  re- 
mained in  the  rocks,  unless  he  gave  up  the  men  who 
committed  the  murders  on  Lost   river  for  trial,  ho 


, 


448 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


met  me  with  real  Indian  logic:  "Who  will  try  them, 
— white  men  or  Indians?" 

"  White  men,  of  course,"  I  replied,  although  I  knew 
that  this  man  had  an  inherent  idea  of  the  right  of  trial 
by  a  jury  of  his  peers,  and  that  he  would  come  back 
with  another  question  not  easy  to  be  answered  by  a 
citizen  who  believed  in  equal  justice  to  nil  men. 

"  Then  will  you  give  up  the  men  who  killed  the  In- 
dian women  and  children  on  Lost  river,  to  be  tried 
by  the  Modocs?" 

Isaid,  "I^o,  because  the  Modoc  law  is  dead;  the 
white  man's  law  rules  the  country  now ;  only  one  law 
lives  at  a  time." 

He  had  not  yet  exhausted  all  his  mental  resources. 
Hear  him  say:  "  Will  you  try  the  men  who  fired  on 
my  people,  on  the  east  side  of  Lost  river,  by  your  own 
law?" 

This  'iry  was  worthy  of  a  direct  answer,  and  it 
would  aeem  that  no  honest  man  need  hesitate  to  say 
"Yes."  I  did  not  say  yes,  because  I  knew  that  the  prej- 
udice was  so  strong  against  the  Modocs  that  it  could 
not  be  done.  I  could  only  repeat  that  "  the  white 
man's  law  rules  the  country,  —  the  Indian  law  is  dead." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  see ;  the  white  man's  laws  are  good  for 
the  white  man,  but  they  are  made  so  as  to  leave  the 
Indian  out.  No,  my  friend,  I  cannot  give  up  the 
young  men  to  be  hung.  I  know  they  did  wrong,  — 
their  blood  was  bad  when  they  saw  the  women  and 
children  dead.  T/teydid  not  begin;  the  white  man 
began  first;  I  know  they  are  bad;  I  can't  help  that; 
I  have  no  strong  laws,  and  strong  houses;  some  of 
your  young  men  are  bad,  too ;  you  have  strong  laws 
and  strong  houses  (jails) ;  why  don't  you  make  your 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPAXn. 


449 


men  do  right?  "No,  I  cannot  give  up  my  young  men; 
take  away  the  soldiers,  and  all  the  trouble  will  stop." 

I  repeated  again:  "The  soldiers  cannot  be  taken 
away  while  you  stay  in  the  Lava  Beds."  Laying  his 
hand  on  my  arm,  he  said, "  Tell  me,  my  friend,  what  I  am 
to  do,  —  I  do  not  want  to  fight."  I  said  to  him,  "  The 
only  way  now  for  peace  is  to  come  out  of  the  rocks, 
and  we  will  hunt  up  a  new  home  for  you;  then  all 
this  trouble  will  cease.  No  peace  can  be  made  while 
you  stay  in  the  Lava  Beds ;  we  can  find  you  another 
place,  and  the  President  will  give  you  each  a  home." 
He  replied,  "  I  don't  know  any  other  country.  God 
gave  me  this  country;  he  put  my  people  here  first.  I 
was  born  here,  —  my  father  was  born  here;  I  want  to 
live  here ;  I  do  not  want  to  leave  the  ground  where 
I  was  born." 

On  being  again  assured  that  he  "  must  come  out  of 
the  rocks  and  leave  the  country,  acknowledge  the 
authority  of  the  Government,  and  then  we  could  live 
in  peace,"  his  reply  was  characteristic  of  the  man  and 
his  race :  — 

"  You  ask  me  to  come  out,  and  put  myself  in  your 
power.  I  cannot  do  it,  —  I  am  afraid ;  no,  /  am  not 
afraid,  but  my  people  are.  "When  you  was  at  Fair- 
child's  ranch  you  sent  me  word  that  no  more  prepa- 
ration for  war  would  be  made  by  you,  and  that  /  must 
not  go  on  preparing  for  war  until  this  thing  was  set- 
tled. I  have  done  nothing;  I  have  seen  your  men 
passing  through  the  country;  I  could  have  killed 
them;  I  did  not;  my  men  have  stayed  in  the  rocks  all 
the  time;  they  have  not  killed  anybody;  they  have 
not  killed  any  cattle.  I  have  kept  my  promis'  -  Jiave 
you  kept  yours  ?    Your  soldiers  stole  my  horses,  you 


^9'  { 


t 


450 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


did  not  give  them  up ;  you  say  *  you  want  peace ; ' 
why  do  you  come  with  bo  many  soldiers  to  make 
peace?  I  sec  your  men  coming  every  day  with  big 
guns;  does  that  look  like  making  peace?  " 

Then,  rising  to  his  feet,  ho  pointed  to  the  farther 
shore  of  the  lake:  "Do  you  see  that  dark  spot  there? 
do  you  see  it?  Forty-six  of  my  people  met  Ben 
"Wi'ight  there  when  I  was  a  little  boy.  He  told  them 
he  wanted  to  make  peace.  It  was  a  rainy  day;  my 
people  wore  moccasins  then;  their  feet  were  wet.  lie 
smoked  the  pipe  with  them.  They  believed  him;  they 
set  down  to  dry  their  feet;  they  unstrung  their  bows, 
and  laid  them  down  by  their  s'^  !s;  when,  suddenly, 
Ben  Wright  drawing  a  pistol  with  each  hand,  began 
shooting  my  people.  Do  you  know  how  many  es- 
caped? DoyoulcnowV^  With  his  eye  fixed  fiercely 
on  mine,  he  v/aited  a  minute,  and  then,  raising  one 
hand,  with  his  fingers  extended,  he  answered  silently. 
Continuing,  he  said :  "  One  man  of  the  five  —  Te-he- 
Jack  —  is  now  in  that  camp  there,"  pointing  to  the 
stronghold. 

I  pointed  to  "  Bloody  Point,"  and  ashed  him  how 
many  escaped  there f  He  answered:  "Your  people 
and  mine  were  at  war  then;  they  were  not  making 
peace." 

On  my  asserting  that  "  Ben  Wright  did  wrong  to 
kill  people  under  a  flag  of  truce,"  he  said:  "  You  say 
it  is  wrong;  but  your  Oovemment  did  not  say  it  was 
wrong.  It  made  him  a  tyee  chief.  Big  Chief  made 
him  an  Indian  agent." 

This  half-savage  had  truth  on  his  side,  as  far  as  the 
Govermnent  was  concerned;  as  to  the  treachery  of 
Ben  Wright,  that  has  been  emphatically  denied,  and 


W^OWAM   AND  WARPATA. 


451 


just  as  positively  affirmed,  b}-^  parties  who  were  cog- 
nizant of  the  aft'air.  It  is  certain  that  the  Motlocs 
have  always  claimed  that  he  violated  a  flag  of  truce, 
and  that  they  have  never  complained  of  any  losses  of 
men  in  any  other  way.  I  have  no  doubt  that  this 
massacre  had  been  referred  to  often  in  the  Modoc 

« 

councils  by  the  "  Curly-haired  Doctor  "  and  his  gang 
of  cut-throats,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  peace- 
making. 

Captain  Jack,  rising  to  full  stature,  broke  out  in  an 
impassioned  speech,  that  I  had  not  thought  hini  com- 
petent to  make :  — 

"I  am  but  one  man.  I  am  the  voice  of  my  people. 
Whatever  their  hearts  are,  that  I  talk.  I  want  no 
more  war.  I  want  to  be  a  man.  You  deny  me  the 
rl<5ht  of  a  white  man.  My  skin  is  red;  my  heart  is  a 
white  man's  heart;  but  I  am  a  Modoc.  I  am  not 
afraid  io  die.  I  will  not  fall  on  the  rocks.  When 
I  die,  my  enemies  will  be  under  me.  Your  soldiers 
begun  on  me  when  I  was  asleep  on  Lost  river. 
They  drove  us  to  these  rocks,  like  a  wounded  deer. 
Tell  your  soldier  iyee  I  am  over  there  now;  tell 
him  not  to  hunt  for  me  on  Lost  river  or  Shasta 
Butte.  Tell  him  I  am  over  there.  I  want  him  to 
take  his  soldiers  away.  I  do  not  want  to  fight.  I 
am  a  Modoc.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.  I  can  show 
him  how  a  Modoc  can  die." 

I  advised  hun  to  think  well;  that  our  Government 
was  strong,  and  would  not  go  back;  if  he  would  not 
come  out  of  the  rocks  the  war  would  go  on,  and  all 
his  people  would  be  destroyed. 

Before  parting,  I  proposed  for  him  to  go  to  camp 
with  me,  and  have  dinner  and  another  talk.     He  said 


452 


vriQWAM.  AND  WARPATH. 


*^  he  was  not  afraid  to  go,  but  his  people  were  afraid 
for  him.    He  could  not  go." 

This  talk  lasted  nearly  seven  hours,  and  was  the 
only  full,  free  talk  had  with  the  Modocs  during  the 
existence  of  the  Peace  Commission. 

I  left  that  council  having  more  respect  for  the  Mo- 
doc chief  than  I  had  ever  felt  before.  No  airange- 
ment  was  made  for  subsequent  meetings,  he  going  to 
his  camp,  to  counsel  with  his  people.  We  returned 
to  ours,  to  report  to  the  Board  of  Commissioners  the 
talk,  from  the  notes  taken.  Judge  Roseborough,  who 
had  been  present  a  portion  of  the  time,  and  Mr.  Fair- 
child,  agreed  with  me  that  Captain  Jack  himself  wanted 
peace,  and  was  willing  to  accept  the  terms  offered; 
but  he,  being  in  the  hands  of  bad  men,  might  not  be 
able  to  bring  his  people  out  of  the  rocks. 

Gen.  Canby,  Dr.  Thomas,  and  Mr.  Dyer  were  of 
the  opinion  that,  inasmuch  as  Captain  Jack  had 
abandoned  his  claim  to  Lost  river,  which  he  had 
always  insisted  on  previously,  he  might  consent 
to  a  removal.  We  did  not  believe  that  his  people 
would  permit  him  to  make  such  terms.  We  were  all 
more  anxious  than  before  to  save  Captain  Jack  and 
those  who  were  in  favor  of  peace.  Accordingly,  it 
was  determined  to  make  the  effort,  Gen.  Canby 
authorizing  me  to  say,  through  a  messenger,  that,  if 
Captain  Jack  and  the  peace  party  would  come  out, 
he  would  place  the  troops  in  position  to  protect  him 
while  making  the  attempt. 

Tobey  Riddle  was  despatched  to  the  Modoc  camp 
with  the  message,  fully  instructed  what  to  say.  On 
her  arrival,  Captain  Jack  refused  a  private  confer- 
ence, saying,  "  I  want  my  people  all  to  hear."     The 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


453 


proposition  was  made,  the  vote  was  taken,  and  but 
eleven  men  voted  with  Jack  to  accept  the  terms,  the 
majority  giving  warning  that  any  attempt  to  escape 
would  be  attended  with  chances  of  death  to  all  who 
dared  it.  Captain  Jack  replied  to  the  message:  "I 
am  a  Modoc,  and  I  cannot,  and  will  not,  leavo  my 
people."  The  reason  was  evident  —  he  dared  not, 
knowing  that  his  own  life  and  that  of  his  family 
would  pay  the  penalty. 

This  vote  in  Tobey's  presence  gave  a  knowledge  as 
to  the  number  of  peace  men  in  the  Modoc  camp.  On 
her  return  to  our  camp,  one  of  the  peace  men  (the 
wild  girl's  man),  having  secreted  himself  behind  a 
rock  near  the  '.  'ail,  as  she  passed,  said  to  her:  "  Tell 
old  man  Meacham  and  all  the  men  not  to  come  to  the 
council  tent  again  —  they  get  killed."  Tobey  could 
not  stop  to  hear  more,  lest  she  should  betray  her 
friend  who  was  giving  her  the  information.  She 
arrived  at  the  Peace  Commission  tent  in  camp  in 
great  distress ;  her  eyes  were  swollen,  and  gave  evi- 
dence of  weeping.  She  sat  on  her  horse  in  solemn, 
sullen  silence  for  some  minutes,  refusing  to  ypeak 
until  her  husband  arrived.  He  beckoned  me  to  him, 
and,  with  whitened  lips,  told  the  story  of  the  intended 
assassination.  The  board  was  assembh  .,  and  the 
warning  thus  given  us  was  repeated  by  Riddle,  also 
the  reply  of  Captain  Jack  to  our  message.  A  dis- 
cussion was  iiad  over  the  warning,  Gen.  Canby  saying 
that  they  "  might  talk  such  things,  but  they  would 
not  attempt  it."  Dr.  Thomas  was  inclined  to  believe 
that  it  was  a  sensational  story,  got  up  for  effect 
Mr.  Dyer  and  myself  accepted  the  warning,  accredit- 
ing the  authority. 


454 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


i 


On  the  day  following,  a  delegation  composed  of 
"Bogus,"  "Boston,"  and  " Shacknasty,"  arrived, 
and  proposed  a  meeting  at  the  council  tent;  say- 
ing that  Captain  Jack  and  four  other  Indians  were 
there  waiting  for  us  to  meet  them.  I  was  managing 
the  talks  and  negotiations  for  councils,  and  without 
evincing  distrust  of  Boston,  who  was  spokesman, 
said  we  were  not  ready  to  talk  that  day.  Wliile  the 
parley  was  going  on,  an  orderly  handed  Gen.  Canby 
a  despatch  from  the  signal  station,  saying,  ^^  Five 
Indians  at  the  council  tent,  apparently  unarmed,  and 
about  twenty  others,  with  rifles,  are  in  the  rocTcs  a  few 
rods  behind  themP  This  paper  was  passed  from  one 
to  another  without  comment,  while  the  talk  with 
Boston  was  being  concluded.  We  were  all  convinced 
that  treachery  was  intended  on  that  day. 

Before  the  Modocs  left  our  camp,  Dr.  Thomas  un- 
wisely said  to  Bogus  Charley,  "  What  do  you  want 
to  kill  us  for?  We  are  your  friends."  Bogus,  in  a 
very  earnest  manner,  said,  "Who  told  you  that?" 
The  doctor  evaded.  Bogus  insisted;  growing  warmer 
each  time;  and  finally,  through  fear,  or  perhaps  he 
was  too  honest  to  evade  longer,  the  doctor  replied, 
"Tobey  told  it."  Bogus  signalled  to  Shacknasty 
and  Boston,  and  the  three  worthies  left  our  camp 
together;  Bogus,  however,  having  questioned  Tobey 
as  to  the  authorship  of  the  warning,  before  leaving. 
Riddle  and  his  wife  were  much  alarmed  now  for  their 
own  personal  safety.  Up  to  this  time  they  had  felt 
secure.  The  trio  of  Modocs  had  not  been  gone 
very  long,  when  a  messenger  came  demanding  of 
Tobey  to  visit  the  Modoc  camp.  She  was  alarmed, 
as  was  Biddle.    They  sought  advice  of  the  commis- 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


455 


I  did 


sion,  —  they  thought  there  was  great  danger. 
not. 

A  consultation  was  had  with  General  Canby,  who 
proposed  to  move  immediately  against  the  Modocs 
were  Tobey  assaulted.  With  this  assurance  she  con- 
sented to  go.  In  proof  of  my  faith  in  her  return  I 
loaned  her  my  overcoat,  and  gave  her  my  horse  to 
ride.  She  parted  with  her  little  boy  (ten  years 
old)  several  times  before  she  succeeded  in  mount- 
ing her  horse,  —  clasping  him  to  her  breast,  she 
would  set  him  down  and  start,  and  then  run  to  him 
and  catch  hrn  up  again,  —  each  time  seeming  more 
affected,  —  until  at  last  her  courage  was  high  enough, 
and,  saying  a  few  words  in  a  low  voice  to  her  hus- 
band, she  rode  off  on  this  perilous  expedition  to  meet 
her  own  people.  Riddle,  too,  was  very  uneasy  about 
her  safety;  with  a  field-glass  in  hand  he  took  a  sta- 
tion commanding  a  view  of  the  trail  to  the  Modoc 
camp.  This  incident  was  one  of  thrilling  interest. 
We  could  see  that  Indian  woman  when  she  arrived  in 
the  Modoc  camp,  and  could  see  them  gather  around 
her.  They  demanded  to  know  by  what  authority  she 
had  told  the  story  about  their  intention  to  kill  the 
commission.  She  denied  that  she  had;  but  the  denial 
was  not  received  as  against  the  statement  of  Bogus. 
She  then  claimed  that  she  dreamed  it;  this  was  not 
accepted.  The  next  dodge  was,  "The  spirits  told 
me."  Believers  as  they  are  in  Spiritualism,  they 
would  not  receive  this  statement,  and  began  to  make 
threats  of  violence;  declaring  that  she  should  give  the 
name  of  her  informer,  or  suffer  the  consequences. 
Rising  to  a  real  heroism,  she  pointed  with  one  hand, 
saying,    "There  are  soldiers  there,"    and  with  the 


456 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


other,  ** There  are  soldiers  there;  you  touch  me  and 
they  will  fire  on  you,  and  not  a  Modoc  will  escape." 
Smiting  her  breast,  she  continued:  "I  am  a  Modoc 
woman;  all  my  blood  is  Modoc;  I  did  not  dream  it; 
the  spirits  did  not  tell  me;  one  of  your  men  told  me. 
I  won't  tell  you  who  it  was.  Shoot  me,  if  you  dare!^^ 
On  her  retiu'n  she  gave  an  account  of  this  intensely 
thrilling  scene  as  related,  and  it  has  been  subsequently 
confirmed  by  other  Modocs  who  were  present.  Cap- 
tain Jack  and  Scar-face  Charley  interfered  in  her 
behalf,  and  sent  an  escort  to  see  her  safely  to  our 
camp.  She  repeated  her  warning  against  going  to 
the  peace  tent. 


CHAPTER     XXVIII. 

WHO  HAD  BEEN  THERE  —  WHO  HAD  NOT. 

Let  us  change  the  scene,  and  transfer  ourselves  to 
the  marquee  of  Gen.  Gilliam.  Gen.  Canby  is  sitting 
on  a  camp-chair,  and  near  him  Col.  Barnard.  On 
the'  camp-bedstead  sits  Gen.  Gilliam,  and  by  his  side 
Col.  Mason;  the  chairman  of  the  Peace  Commission 
on  a  box  almost  between  the  parties.  The  talk  is  of 
Modocs,  peace,  treachery,  Ben  Wright,  battle  of  17th 
January,  the  stronghold.  Gen.  Gilliam  remarks, 
addressing  Gen.  Canby:  "Well,  general,  whenever 
you  are  through  trying  to  make  peace  with  those  fel- 
lows, I  think  I  can  take  them  out  of  their  stronghold 
with  the  loss  of  half-a-dozen  men^''  Canby  sat  still, 
and  said  nothing.  Gilliam  continued :  "  Oh,  we  m.  j 
have  some  casualties  in  wounded  men,  of  course ;  but 
I  can  take  them  out  whenever  you  give  the  order." 
Silence  followed  for  a  few  moments. 

Gen.  Canby,  fixing  his  cigar  in  his  mouth  and  his 
eye  on  Col.  Mason, -sat  looking  the  question  he  did 
"j^^^  wish  to  ask  in  words. 

Col.  Mason,  seeming  to  understand  the  meaning  of 
the  look,  said:  "With  due  deference  to  the  opinion 
of  Gen.  Gilliam,  I  think  if  we  take  them  out  with  the 
loss  of  one-third  of  the  entire  commandj  it  is  doing 
as  well  as  I  eocpect" 

The  portly  form  of  Col.  Barnard  moved  slowly 
forward  and  back,  thereby  saying,  "  I  agree  with  you, 


458 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Col.  Mason."  Col.  John  Green  came  in,  and,  to  an 
inquiry  about  how  many  men  it  would  cost,  he  re- 
plied evasively,  saying,  "I  don't  know;  only  we  got 

licked  on  the  17th  of  January  like .     Beg  your 

pardon,  general."  Canby  continued  smoking  his 
cigar,  without  fire  in  it.  Here  were  four  men  giving 
opinions.  One  of  them  had  fought  rebels  in  Ten- 
nessee, and  was  a  success  there;  the  other  three 
fought  rebels  also  successfully,  and  Modocs  in  the 
Lava  Beds  unsuccessfully.  They  knew  whereof  they 
were  talking.  The  opinions  of  these  men  doubtless 
made  a  deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  com- 
manding general,  and,  knowing  him  as  I  did,  I  can 
well  understand  how  anxious  he  was  for  peace  when 
he  had  the  judgment  of  soldiers  like  Oreen,  Mason, 
and  Barnard,  that,  if  war  followed,  about  one  in  three 
of  the  boys  who  idolized  him  must  die  to  accomplish 
peace  through  hlood. 

Move  over  one  hundred  yards  to  another  marquee; 
the  sounds  betoken  a  discussion  there  also.  Young, 
brave,  ambitious  officers  are  denouncing  the  Peace 
Commission,  complaining  that  the  army  is  subjected 
to  disgrace  by  being  held  in  abeyance  by  it. 

Their  words  are  bitter;  and  they  mean  it,  too, 
because  fighting  is  their  business.  Col.  Green, 
coming  in,  says,  in  angry  voice,  "Stop  that!  the 
Peace  Commission  have  a  right  here  as  much  as  we 
have.  They  are  our  friends.  God  grant  them  suc- 
cess. I  have  been  in  tJie  Lava  Beds  once.  Don't 
abuse  the  Peace  Commission,  gentlemen."  The  fiery 
young  officers  respect  the  man  who  talks;  they  say 
no  more. 

Come  down  a  little  further.    Oh,  here  is  the  Peace 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


459 


Commission  tent,  and  around  a  stove  sits  the  majestic 
Dr.  Thomas,  grave,  dignified,  thoughtful.  Mr.  Dyer 
is  there  also,  quiet  and  meditative,  with  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  and  his  face  is  buried  in  his  hands; 
Meacham  occasionally  recruiting  the  sage-brush  em- 
bers in  the  stove  with  fresh  supplies  of  fuel.  A  rap 
on  the  tent-pole.  "Come  in,"  and  a  fine-looking, 
middle-aged  officer  enters.  Once  glance  at  his  face, 
and  we  see  plainly  that  he  has  come  for  a  growl. 
After    the    compliments    are    passed,    Col.   Tom 

begins  by  saying  that  he 
some  one,  and  he  had  selected 
our  camp  as  the  place  most  likely  to  furnish  him  with 


"Wright  —  for  it  was  he 
wanted  to  growl  at 


"All 


right. 


colonel,    pitch    in,"     says 


a    victim. 
Meacham. 

The  doctor  just  then  remembered  that  he  had  a 
call  to  make  on  Gen.  Canby.  "Well,"  says  the 
gallant  colonel,  "  why  don't  you  leave  here,  and  give 
us  a  chance  at  those  Modocs?  We  don't  want  to  lie 
here  all  sjDring  and  summer,  and  not  have  a  chance 
at  them.  !Now  you  know  we  don't  like  this  delay, 
and  we  can't  say  a  word  to  Gen.  Canby  about  it.  I 
think  you  ought  to  leave,  and  let  us  clean  them  out." 

I  detailed  the  conversa'ion  had  in  Gen.  Gilliam's 
marquee,  and  also  expressed  some  doubts  on  the  sub- 
ject. 

"Pshaw!"  says  Col.  Wright.  "I  will  bet  two 
thousand  dollars  that  Lieut.  Eagan's  company  and 
mine  can  whip  the  Modocs  in  fifteen  minutes  after 
we  get  into  position.  Yes,  I'll  put  the  money  up,  — 
I  mean  it." 

"Well,  my  dear  colonel,  you  might  just  say  to 
Gen.  Canby  that  he  can  send  off  the  other  part  of  the 


460 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


^ 


army,  about  nine  hundred  men  besides  your  company 
and  Eagan's.  As  to  our  leaving  we  have  a  right  to 
be  here,  and  we  are  under  the  control  of  Gen.  Canby ; 
and  as  to  moving  on  the  enemy,  Gen.  Canby  is  not 
ready  until  the  Warm  Spring  Indians  arrive.  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  no  peace  can  be  made,  and  that 
you  will  have  an  opportunity  to  try  it  on  with  the 
Modoc  chief."  The  colonel  bade  me  "good-night," 
saying  that  he  felt  better  now,  since  he  had  his  growl 
out. 

It  is  morning,  and  our  soldier-cook  has  deserted  us, 
and  deserted  the  anny  too.  It  seems  to  be  now 
p!*etty  well  understood  that  no  peace  can  be  made 
with  the  Modocs,  and  several  of  the  boys  have  de- 
serted. Those  who  have  met  the  Modocs  have  no  de- 
sire to  meet  them  again.  Those  who  have  not,  are 
demoralb  cd  by  the  reports  that  others  gave;  and  since 
the  common  soldiers  serve  for  pay,  and  have  not  much 
hope  of  promotion,  they  are  not  so  warlike  as  the 
brave  officers,  who  have  their  stars  to  win  on  the  field 
of  battle.  Money  won't  hire  a  cook,  hence  we  must 
cook  for  ourselves.  "Well,  all  right;  Dyer  and  I  have 
done  that  kind  of  thing  before  this,  and  we  can 
again. 

"While  we  are  preparing  breakfast  a  couple  of  sol- 
diers come  about  the  fire.  "  I  say,  capt'n,  have  you 
give  it  up  tryin'  to  make  peace  with  them  Injuns 
there?" 

"Don't  know;  why?"  we  reply. 

"  Well,  'cause  why  them  boys  as  has  been  in  there 
says  as  how  it's  neaJy  litenin';  them  Modocs  don't 
give  a  fellow  any  chance;  we  don't  want  any  Modoc, 
we  don't." 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


4G1 


"  Sorry  for  you,  boys;  we  arc  doing  all  we  can  to 
save  you,  but  the  pressure  is  too  heavy;  guess  you'll 
have  to  go  in  and  bring  them  out." 

Squatting  down  before  the  fire,  one  of  them,  in  a 
low  voice,  says,  "Mr.  Commissioner,  us  boys  are 
all  your  fre'ns,  —  we  are;  wish  them  fellers  that  wants 
them  Modocs  whipped  so  bad  would  come  down  and 
do  it  theirselves;  don't  you?  Have  you  tried  every- 
thing you  can  to  make  peace  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  good  fellow,  we  have  exhausted  every 
honorable  means,  and  we  cannot  succeed." 

"Bro.  Meacham,  where  did  you  learn  to  make 
bread?  Why,  this  is  splendid.  Bro.  Dyer,  did  you 
make  this  coffee?  It's  delicious."  So  spoke  our  good 
doctor  at  breakfast. 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Meacham,"  said  Gen.  Canby, 
after  breakfast.  "  "Who  is  cooking  for  your  mess 
now?" 

"  Co-pi,  ni-ka,  —  myself." 

"What  does  Mr.  Dyer  do?" 

"  He  washes  the  dishes." 

"  Ha,  ha  I     "Wliat  does  the  doctor  do?  " 

"  Why,  he  asks  the  blessing." 

The  general  laughed  heartily,  and  as  the  doctor 
approached,  said  to  him,  "Doctor,  you  must  not 
throw  off  on  Bro.  Dyer." 

Explanations  were  made,  and  these  venerable,  dig- 
nified men  enjoyed  that  little  joke  more  heartily  than 
I  had  ever  seen  either  of  them,  on  any  other  occasion. 


J 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


UNDER  A  WOMAN'S  HAT  —  THE  LAST  APPEAL. 


The  commission  had  on  all  occasions  expressed 
willingness  to  meet  the  Modocs  on  fair  terms,  saying 
to  them,  "  Bring  all  your  men,  all  armed,  if  you  wish 
to;  station  them  one  hundred  yards  from  the  council 
tent.  We  will  place  a  company  of  equal  number 
within  one  hundred  yards  on  the  other  side.  Then 
you  chiefs  and  head  men  can  meet  our  commission  at 
the  council  tent  and  talk."  To  this  and  all  other  offers 
they  objected.  The  commission  and  the  general  also 
were  now  convinced  that  no  meeting  could  be  had  on 
fair  terms.  The  authorities  at  Washington  were  again 
informed  of  this  fact.  Dr.  Thomas  was  a  man  of 
great  perseverance,  and  had  great  faith  in  the  power 
of  prayer.  He  spent  hours  alone  in  the  rocks,  near 
our  camp,  praying.  He  would  often  repeat:  "One 
man  with  faith  is  stronger  than  an  hundred  with  in- 
terest only."  Few  men  have  ever  lived  so  constantly 
in  religious  practice  as  did  Dr.  Thomas.  The  Modocs, 
having  been  foiled  in  their  attempt  to  entrap  the 
commission,  sent  for  Riddle,  saying  they  "wanted  his 
advice."  Riddle  went,  under  instructions,  and  talked 
with  them.  Nothing  new  was  elicited.  Riddle  again 
warned  the  commission  of  the  danger  of  meeting  the 
Modocs  unless  fully  armed  for  defence.  He  confirmed 
the  opinion  already  expressed,  that  Captain  Jack  was 
in  favor  of  peace;  but  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of 


WIQWAM  AND  WARPATU. 


4G3 


bad  men,  who  might  compel  him  to  do  what  was 
against  his  judgment.  Gen.  Canby,  always  acknowl- 
edged as  having  power  to  control  the  commission, 
nevertheless  conceded  to  it  the  management  of  the  coun- 
cils. He  never  presided,  and  seldom  gave  an  opinion, 
unless  something  was  said  in  whicli  he  could  not  con- 
cur ;  but  no  action  was  had,  or  message  sent,  or  other 
business  ever  done,  without  his  advice  and  aiyproval. 

On  the  morning. of  April  10th  I  left  head-quarters, 
to  visit  Boyle's  camp,  at  the  southern  end  of  the  lake, 
leaving  Dr.  Thomas  in  charge  of  the  affairs  of  the 
Peace  Commission,  little  dreaming  that  action  of  so 
great  importance  would  be  had  during  my  absence. 
After  visiting  Maj.  Boyle's,  I  returned  by  Col.  Mason's 
camp,  and  there  learned,  through  the  signal  telegraph, 
that  a  delegation  of  Modocs  was  at  the  commission 
tent,  proposing  another  meeting.  I  arrived  at  the 
head-quarters  late  in  the  evening,  and  then. learned 
from  Dr.  Thomas  that  an  agreement  had  been  made 
to  meet  five  unarmed  Indians  at  the  council  tent  on 
the  following  day  at  noon.  I  demurred  to  the  arrange- 
ment, saying,  "  that  it  was  unsafe."  The  doctor  was 
rejoicing  that  "God  had  done  a  wonderful  work  in  the 
Modoc  camp."  The  Modoc  messengers,  to  arrange  for 
this  unfortunate  council,  were  not  insensible  to  the  fact 
of  the  doctor's  religious  faith,  and  they  represented  to 
him  that  "  they  had  changed  their  hearts  /  that  God 
had  put  a  new  fire  in  them,  and  they  were  ashamed  of 
their  had  hearts.  They  now  wanted  to  make  peace. 
Tliey  were  willing  to  surrender.  They  only  wanted 
the  commission  to  jrrove  their  faith  in  the  Modocs  hy 
coming  out  to  meet  them  unarmed.'''^ 

This  hypocrisy  caught  the  doctor.     He  believed 


4G4 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


, 


them;  and,  after  a  consultation  with  Gen.  Cnnby,  the 
compact  waa  made.  The  doctor  was  shocked  at  my 
remark,  that  "  God  has  not  been  in  the  Modoc  camp 
this  winter.     If  we  ^2:0  we  will  not  return  aUve."   Such 

The 


was  my  opinion, 


13* 

and  I 


gave 


it  unhesitating 


ly. 


night,  though  a  long  one,  wore  away,  and  the  morning 
of  Ooocl  Fridaij,  April  11th.,  1873,  found  our  party 
at  an  early  breakfast. 

While  we  were  yet  at  the  morning  meal  Boston 
Charley  came  in.     As   the  doctor   arose  from  his 

breakfast  this  imp  of  the  d ,  from  the  Modoc  camp, 

sat  down  in  the  very  seat  from  which  the  doctor  had 
arisen,  and  ate  his  breakfast  from  the  same  plate, 
drank  from  the  same  cup,  the  doctor  had  used. 

While  Boston  was  eating  he  observed  me  changing 
boots,  putting  on  old  ones.  I  shall  not  soon  forget 
the  curious  twinkle  of  this  demon's  eyes,  when  ho 
said,  "What  for  you  take  'em  off  new  boots?  Why 
for  you  no  wear  'cm  new  boots?  "  lie  examined  them 
carefully,  inquired  the  price  of  them,  and  again  said, 
"  Meacham,  why  for  you  no  wear  'em  new  ^oots?" 
The  villain  was  anxious  for  me  to  wear  a  pair  of 
twenty-dollar  boots  instead  of  my  old  worn-out  ones. 
I  understood  what  that  fellow  meant,  and  I  did  not 
give  him  an  opportunity  to  wear  my  new  boots. 

From  Indian  testimony  it  is  evident  tha;:c  in  the 
Modoc  camp  an  excited  council  had  been  held  on  the 
morning  of  the  11th.  Captain  Jack,  Scar-face  Charley, 
and  a  few  others  had  opposed  the  assassination,  Jack 
declaring  that  it  should  not  Jje  done.  Unfortunately, 
he  was  in  the  minority.  The  majority  ruled,  and  to 
compel  the  chief  to  acquiesce,  the  murderous  crew 
gathered  around  him,  and,  placing  a  woman's  hat  upon 


WIOWAM  AND   WAKPATU. 


4G5 


his  head,  anil  thi'ovving  a  shawl  over  his  shoulders, 
they  pushed  him  down  on  the  rocks,  taunting  him 
with  cowardice,  calling  him  "  a  woman,  white-face 
squaw;"  saying  that  his  heart  was  changed;  that  ho 
went  hack  on  his  own  words  (referring  to  majority 
rule,  which  he  had  instituted) ;  that  he  was  no  longer 
a  Modoc,  the  white  man  had  stolen  his  heart.  Xow, 
in  view  of  the  record  this  man  had  made  as  a  milifary 
captain,  his  courage  oi*  ahility  can  never  l)e  doubted, 
and  yet  he  could  not  withstand  this  impeachment  of 
his  manhood.  Dashing  the  hat  and  shawl  aside,  and 
springing  to  his  feet,  he  shouted,  "  I  am  a  Modoc.  I 
am  your  chief.  It  shall  be  done  if  it  costs  every  drop 
of  blood  in  my  heart.  But  hear  me,  all  my  people, 
—  this  day's  work  will  cost  the  life  of  every  Modoc 
brave;  wo  will  not  live  to  sec  it  ended." 

When  he  had  once  assented  he  was  bloodthirsty, 
and  with  coolness  planned  for  the  consummation  of 
this  terrible  tragedy.  lie  asserted  his  right  to  kill 
Gen.  Canby,  selecting  Ellen's  man  as  his  assistant. 

Contention  ensued  among  the  braves  as  to  who 
should  bo  allowed  to  share  in  this  intended  massacre. 

Meacham  was  next  disposed  of. 

Schonchin,  being  next  in  rank  to  Captain  Jack,  won 
the  jfi'ize;  glad  ho  did,  for  he  was  a  poor  shot  with  a 
pistol.  Hooker  Jim  was  named  as  his  second  in  this 
ex  parte  affair;  sorry  for  that,  for  he  was  a  marksman, 
and  had  ho  kept  the  place  assigned  him,  some  one 
else  would  have  written  this  narrative. 

Dr.  Thomas,  the  "  Sunday  Doctor,"  was  the  next  in 
order.  There  were  several  fellows  ambitious  for  the 
honor,  for  so  they  esteemed  it.  Boston  Charley  and 
Bogus  wei-e  successful.     These  two  men  had  accepted 


If- 


466 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


from  the  doctor's  hands,  on  the  day  preceding,  each 
a  suit  of  new  clothes. 

To  Shacknasty  Jim  and  Barncho  was  assigned  the 
dut}  of  despatching  Mr.  Dyer.  Black  Jim  and  Slo- 
lux  were  to  assassinate  Gen.  Gilliam.  Wlien  Riddle's 
name  was  called  up,  Scar-face  Charley,  who  had  de- 
clared this  "  whole  thing  to  be  an  outrage  unworthy 
of  the  Modocs,"  positively  refused  to  take  any  part, 
arose  and  gave  notice  that  he  would  defend  Riddle 
and  his  wife,  and  that  if  either  were  killed  he  would 
avenge  their  death. 

These  preliminaries  being  arranged,  Bamcho  and 
Slo-lux  were  sent  out  before  daylight,  with  seven  or 
eight  rifles,  to  secrete  themselves  near  the  council 
tent. 

The  manner  of  the  assault  was  discussed,  and  the 
plan  of  shooting  from  ambush  was  urged  but  aban- 
doned, because  it  would  have  prevented  those  who 
were  to  conduct  the  pretended  council,  from  sharing 
in  the  honors  to  come  from  that  bloody  scene.  The 
details  completed.  Captain  Jack  said  to  his  sister 
Mary,  and  to  Scar-face  Charley,  "It  is  all  over.  I 
feel  ashamed  of  what  I  am  doing.  I  did  not  think  I 
would  ever  agree  to  do  this  thing." 

When  this  tragedy  was  planned,  another  was  also 
agreed  upon.  Curly-haired  Doctor  and  Curly  Jack, 
and  a  Cumbatwas,  were  to  decoy  Col.  Mason /row  his 
camp,  and  I'zll  him  also. 

Bogus  Charloy  had  come  into  our  camp  the  evening 
previous,  and  remained  until  the  next  morning.  He 
was  there  to  ascertain  whether  any  steps  were  taken 
to  prevent  the  consummation  of  the  hellish  design. 
Boston's  visit  was  for  the  same  purpose.    It  is  almost 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


467 


eceding,  each 


past  belief  that  these  two  men,  who  had  received  at 
the  hands  of  Gen.  Canby,  Gen.  Gilliam,  and  the 
Peace  Commission,  so  many  presents  of  clothing  and 
supplies,  could  have  planned  and  executed  so  treach- 
erous a  deed  of  blood.  Bogus  was  the  especial  fa- 
vorite of  Generals  Canby  and  Gilliam ;  indeed,  they 
recognized  him  as  an  interpreter  instead  of  Riddle 
and  wife.  He  was  better  treated  by  them  than  any 
other  of  the  Modoc  messengers.  It  is  asserted,  most 
positively,  that  Bogus  was  the  man  who  first  proposed 
the  assassination  of  Canby  and  the  Peace  Commis- 
sioners, 

The  morning  wears  away  and  the  commissioner 
seems  loath  to  start  out.  The  Modoc  messengers  are 
urgent,  and  point  to  the  council  tent,  saying,  that 
'"  Captain  Jack  and  four  men  waiting  now."  Look  at 
our  signal  station  half  way  up  the  mountain  side. 
The  men  with  field-glasses  are  scanning  the  Lava 
Beds.  Gen.  Canby  has  given  orders  that  a  strict  watch 
be  kept  on  the  council  tent  and  the  trail  leading  to  it 
from  the  Modoc  camp.  The  officers  of  the  signal 
corps  were  the^*e  when  the  morning  brokii.  They  have 
been  faithful  to  the  orders  to  watch.  The  sun  is 
mounting  the  sky.  It  is  almost  half  way  across  the 
blue  arch.  Bogus  and  Boston  are  impatient;  saying 
that  "  Captain  Jack,  hun  get  tu'cd  waiting."  Gen. 
Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  have  been  in  consultation. 
Riddle  is  uneasy  and  restless,  and  as  Canby  and 
Thomas  walk  slowly  to  Gen.  Gilliam's  head-quarters, 
he  says  to  Meacham,  "  Do  not  go.  I  think  you  wUl 
all  be  killed  if  you  do." — "  Then  come  to  Gen. 
Gilliam's  tent  and  say  so  there,"  suggests  Meacham. 

The  commissioners  approach  the  tent.    Gen.  Canby 


468 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


meets  Col.  Green  and  one  or  two  other  officers,  stop- 
ping at  the  tent  door,  and  continued  talking,  while  the 
remainder  of  the  commissioners  enter.  Gen.  Gilliam 
is  reclining  on  his  bed,  he  is  sick  this  morning,  very 
sick.  Gen.  Canby  remarks  from  the  tent  door; 
"Go  on,  gentlemen,  don't  wait  for  mej  I  will  be  in 
presently. 

Riddle  again  repeats  the  warning:  "Gentlemen,  I 
have  been  talking  with  my  wife;  she  has  never  told 
me  a  lie,  or  deceived  me,  and  she  says  if  you  go  to- 
day you  will  be  killed.  We  wash  our  hands  of  all 
blame.  If  you  must  go,  go  well  armed!  I  give  you 
my  opinionj  because  I  do  not  want  to  be  blamed  here- 
after." Riddle  retires  and  Gen.  Canby  enters.  Rid- 
dle's warning  is  repeated  to  him.  The  general 
replies :  "  I  have  had  a  field-glass  watching  the  trail  all 
the  morning;  there  are  but  four  men  at  the  council 
tent.  I  have  given  orders  for  the  signal  jtation  to 
keep  a  strict  watch,  and,  in  the  event  of  an  attack,  the 
army  will  i^iove  at  once  against  them," —  meaning  the 
Modocs.  Dr.  Thomas  expressed  his  determination  to 
keep  the  compact,  saying  that  he  is  in  the  hands  of 
God,  and  pro]^oses  to  do  his  duty  and  leave  the  result 
with  h'3  Maker.  He  thinks  Riddle  and  his  wife  are 
excited ;  that  they  are  not  reliable.  "  I  diflfer  from  you, 
gentlemen;  I  think  we  ought  to  heed  the  warning.  If 
we  do  go,  we  must  go  armed;  otherwise  we  will  be 
attacked.    I  nm  opposed  to  going  in  any  other  way." 

Mr.  Dyer  says:  "I  agree  with  Mr.  Meacham;  we 
ought  to  go  prepared  for  defence.  We  ought  to  heed 
the  warning  we  have  had.  Gen.  Canby  repeats, 
"  With  the  precaution  we  have  taken  there  can  be  no 
danger."  Dr.  Thomas  also  saying,  "The  agreement 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


469 


is  to  go  unarmed;  we  must  be  faithful  on  our  part  to 
the  compact,  and  leave  it  all  in  the  hands  of  God." 

Previous  to  starting,  Dr.  Thomas  goes  to  the 
sutler's  store  and  pays  for  some  goods  bought  for  the 
Modocs  the  day  previous,  when  this  compact  was 
made.  From  this  act  it  would  appear  that  he  has 
doubts  about  the  result.  Indeed,  to  another  gentle- 
man he  says  that  he  is  not  sure  that  he  will  return; 
but  "  I  will  do  my  duty  faithfully,  and  trust  God  to 
bring  it  out  all  right."  Gen.  C.inby  is  holding  council 
with  Gen.  Gilliam  and  other  officers.  He  leaves  them, 
coming  to  his  own  marquee,  says  something  to  his 
faithful  orderly,  —  Scott,  —  then  to  Monahan,  his  sec- 
retary, and  then,  in  full  dress  he  walks  to  the  "Peace 
Commission  tent,"  where  he  is  joined  by  Dr.  Thomas 
and  starts  for  the  council  tent.  Side  by  side  they 
walk  away. 

The  doctor  is  dressed  in  a  suit  of  light-gray  Scotch 
tweed.  The  officers  and  men  are  standing  around 
their  tents,  talking  of  the  danger  ahead.  They  ditfor 
in  opinion,  and  all  declare  their  readiness  to  fly  to  the 
rescue  in  the  event  of  treachery.  Bogus  is  with  the 
general  and  the  doctor.  He  carries  a  rifle ;  it  is  his 
own.  In  that  rifle  is  a  ball  that  will  crush  through 
the  brain  of  Dr.  Thomas  in  less  than  two  hours. 
Having  seen  them  start,  Bogus  hastens  to  the  council 
tent,  scanning  the  route  as  he  goes,  to  make  sure  that 
no  soldiers  are  secreted  among  the  rocks. 

A  few  moments  since,  Mcachum  and  Fairchild  were 
in  earnest  conversation.  Meacham  says,  "  John,  what 
do  you  think?  is  it  safe  to  go?"  —  "Wait  here  a 
minute,  and  let  me  have  another  talk  with  Bogus ;  I 
think  I  can  tell,"  says  Fairchild.    After  a  few  minutes 


Jii 


470 


WIOWA3I   AND  WARPATH. 


.  he  returns,  whittling  a  stick.  Slowly  shaking  his 
head,  he  says,  "  I  can't  make  out  from  Bogus  what  to 
think.  I  don't  like  the  looks  of  things ;  still  he  talks 
all  right;  may  be  it's  all  on  the  square."  Meachara 
replies,  ^^  I  must  yo  if  the  general  and  the  doctor  do." 
Fairchild  goes  again  to  Bogus;  but  the  general  and 
doctor  are  starting.  Bogus  *8  impatient,  and  cuts 
6hoi*t  the  talk.  Meacham  is  huri  ving  to  the  tent.  He 
seats  himself  on  a  roll  of  blankets,  and  with  a  pencil 
writes,  —  let  us  look  over  his  shoulder  and  see  what: 

Lava  Beds,  April  11th,  1873. 

My  dear  Wife:  — 

You  may  be  a  widow  to-night;  you  shall  not  be  a 

coward's   wife.      I  go  to  save  my  honor.     John  A. 

Fairchild  will  forward  my  valise  and  valuables.     The 

chances  are  all  against  us.     I  have  done  my  best  to 

prevent  this  meeting.    I  am  in  no  wise  to  blame. 

Yours  to  the  end, 

ALFEED. 

P.  S.  —  I  give  Fairchild  six  hundred  and  fifty  dol- 
lars, currency,  for  you.  A.  b.  m. 


"  Here,  John,  send  these  to  my  wife,  Salem,  Oregon, 
if  I  don't  get  back." 

Mr.  Dyer  approaches,  and  says,  "Mr.  Fairchild, 
send  this  parcel  to  Mrs.  Dyer."  —  "  Mr.  Dyer,  why  do 
you  go,  feeling  as  you  do?  I  would  not  if  I  were  in 
your  place.  I  must  go,  since  I  am  the  chairman  of 
the  commission,  or  be  disgraced."  Mr.  Dyer  replies, 
^^  If  you  go,  I  am  going.  I  will  not  stay,  if  all  the 
rest  go^ 

By  the  tent  door  the  Indian  woman  is  weeping. 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


471 


while  holding  a  horse  by  a  rope.  Standing  beside 
her  is  a  white  man,  and  also  a  boy  ten  years  old. 
They  are  talking  in  Modoc,  and  we  may  not  know 
what  they  are  saying.  That  little  group  is  Frank 
Riddle  and  his  wife  Tobey,  and  their  little  boy  Jeff. 
Their  warning  has  been  disregarded.  They  ai-e  loth 
to  give  up  their  efforts  to  save  the  commissioners  and 
Canby. 

*'  Tobey,  give  me  my  horse;  we  must  go  now." 

"Meacham,  you  no  go;  you  get  kill.  You  no  get 
your  horse.  The  Modocs  m-^.d  now;  they  kill  all  you 
men."  She  winds  the  rope  around  her  waist,  and 
throws  herself  upon  the  ground,  and,  in  the  wildest 
excitement,  shrieks  in  broken  sobs,  "  Meacham,  you 
no  go;  you  no  go!     You  get  kill!  you  get  kill!  " 

Can  the  man  resist  this  appeal  to  save  his  friends 
and  himself?  His  lips  quiver  and  his  face  is  white; 
he  is  struggling  with  his  pride.  His  color  changes. 
Thank  God,  he  is  going  to  make  another  effort  to 
prevent  the  doom  that  threatens !  He  calls  to  Canby 
and  Thomas.  They  await  his  approach.  Laying  a 
hand  on  the  shoulder  of  each,  he  says,  "  Gentlemen, 
my  cool,  deliberate  opinion  is  that,  if  we  go  to  the 
council  tent  to-day,  we  will  he  carried  home  to-night 
on  the  stretchers,  all  cut  to  pieces."  I  tell  you,  I  dare 
not  ignore  Tobey's  warning.  I  believe  her,  and  I  am 
not  willing  to  go." 

The  general  answers  first :  "  Mr.  Meacham,  you  are 
unduly  cautious.  There  are  but  five  Indians  at  the 
council  tent,  and  they  dare  not  attack  us." 

**  General,  the  Modocs  dare  do  anything.  I  know 
them  better  than  you  do,  and  I  know  they  are  des- 
perate.    Braver  men  and  wcrse  men  never  lived 


472 


WIGWiVM  AND  WAKPATII. 


on  tills  continent  than  we  are  to  meet  at  that  tent 
yonder. " 

The  general  replies,  "I  have  left  orders  for  a 
watch  to  be  kept,  and,  if  they  attack  us,  the  army 
■will  move  at  once  against  them.  We  have  agreed  to 
meet  them,  and  we  must  do  it." 

Dr.  Thomas  remarks,  "I  have  agreed  to  meet 
them,  and  I  never  IreaTc  my  word.  I  am  in  the  hands 
of  God.  If  He  requires  my  llfe^  I  am  ready  for  the 
sacrifice." 

Mcacham  is  still  unwilling  to  go,  and  says,  "  If  we 
must  go,  let  us  be  well  armed." 

"Brother  Meacham,  the  agreement  is  to  go  un- 
armed, and  we  must  do  as  we  have  agreed." 

^^But  the  Modocs  will  all  he  doubly  armed.  They 
won't  keep  their  part  of  the  compact;  they  never  have, 
and  they  wovH  now.  Let  John  Fairchild  go  with  us, 
him  and  me  with  a  revolver  each,  and  I  will  not  inter- 
pose any  more  objections  to  going.  Do  this,  and  I 
pledge  you  my  life  that  we  bring  our  party  out  all 
right.  I  know  Fairchild.  I  know  he  is  a  dead  shot, 
and  he  and  I  can  whip  a  dozen  Indians  in  open 
ground  with  revolvers." 

"  Brother  Meacham,  you  and  Fairchild  are  fighting 
men.  We  are  going  to  make  peace,  not  war.  Let  us 
go  as  we  agreed,  and  trust  in  God." 

"But,  doctor,  Ood  does  not  drop  revolvers  down 
just  when  and  where  you  need  themP 

"My  dear  brother,  you  are  getting  to  be  very 
irreligious.  I*ut  your  trust  in  Ood.  Pray  more,  and 
donH  thinh  so  much  about  fighting. '''' 

"  Doctor,  I  am  just  as  much  of  a  peace  man  as  you 
are,  and  I  am  as  good  a  friend  as  the  Indians  ever 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


473 


had  on  this  coast,  and  I  know  in  wJiom  to  put  my 
trust  in  the  hour  of  peril;  but  I  know  these  Modocs, 
and  I  know  that  they  won't  keep  their  word,  and  I 
want  to  be  ready  for  trouble  if  it  comes.  I  don't 
want  to  go  unarmed." 

"  The  compact  is  to  go  unarmed,  and  I  am  not 
willing  to  jeopardize  our  lives  by  breaking  the  com- 
pact." 

"  "Well,  since  we  must  go,  and  I  am  to  manage  the 
talk,  I  will  grant  to  them  any  demand  they  make, 
rather  than  give  them  an  excuse ;  that  is,  if  they  arc 
armed,  —  as  I  know  they  will  be,  —  and  more  than  five 
Indians  will  be  there,  too." 

Gen.  Canby  replied,  "Mr.  Meacham,  I  have  had 
more  or  less  connection  with  the  Indian  service  for 
thirty  years,  and  I  Jtave  never  made  a  promise  that 
could  not  be  carried  out.  I  am  not  willing  now  to 
promise  anything  that  we  donH  intend  to  perform.''^ 

"  Nor  I,"  breaks  in  the  doctor.  "  That  is  why  In- 
dians have  no  confidence  in  white  men.  I  am  not 
willing  to  have  you  make  a  promise  that  we  don't 
intend  to  keep." 

"  Hear  me,  gentlemen,  I  only  propose  doing  so  in 
the  event  that  the  Modocs  have  broken  the  compact 
by  being  armed.  I  don't  believe  in  false  promises 
any  more  than  you  do,  only  in  such  an  event ;  and  I 
tell  you  I  would  promise  anything  an  Indian  de- 
manded before  I  would  give  him  an  excuse  to  take 
my  life,  or  yours.  I  say  that  is  not  dishonest,  and 
my  conscience  would  never  condemn  me  for  saving 
my  life  by  such  strategy." 

The  general  and  the  doctor  both  insist  on  making 
no  promise  that  is  not  hona  fide.    Meacham's  efforts 


474 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


m 


m 


to  prevent  the  meeting  fails.  He  turns  slowly,  and 
with  hesitating  steps  goes  towards  the  peace  tent  in 
the  camp.  Canby  and  Thomas  start  off  side  by  side. 
Meacham  turns  again:  — 

"  Once  more,  gentlemen,  I  beg  you  not  to  go.  I 
have  too  much  to  live  for  now;  too  many  are  depend- 
ing on  me ;  I  do  not  want  to  die.  If  you  go,  I  must 
go  to  save  my  name  from  dishonor." 

"  That  squaw  has  got  you  scared,  Meacham.  I  don't 
see  why  you  should  be  so  careful  of  your  scalp  j  it  is 
not  much  better  than  my  own." 

"Yes,  the  squaw  has  scared  Meacham;  that's  true. 
I  am  afraid',  I  have  reason  to  be.  But  we  will  see 
before  the  sun  sets  who  is  the  worst  scared." 

O  my  God!  They  refuse  to  turn  back.  Their 
fate  is  sealed.  The  action  of  these  few  minutes  in- 
volves so  much  of  human  woe;  so  much  blood,  so 
many  valuable  lives,  so  much  of  vast  importance  to 
two  races.  Oh,  how  many  hearts  must  bleed  from  the 
decision  of  that  hourl  We  feel  sad  as  they  walk 
away.  Is  it  true  that  the  stately  form  of  the  gallant 
Christian  soldier  is  to  fall  on  the  rocks,  pierced  with 
Modoc  bullets,  and  that  savage  hands  will  in  two 
short  hours  rudely  strip  from  him  the  uniform  he  so 
proudly  wears?  Can  it  be  that  a  Modoc  bullet  will 
go  crashing  through  the  head  that  has  worn  well- 
earned  laurels  so  long?  Must  the  noble  heart  that 
now  beats  with  kindest  throbs  for  even  those  who  are 
to  murder  him  so  soon,  beat  but  two  hours  more,  and 
then  alone  on  the  gray  rocks  of  this  wild  shore  cease 
its  throbbing  forever?  Can  it  be  that  the  lofty  fonn 
of  Dr.  Thomas  will  fall  to  rise  no  more;  that  the  lips 
that  have  so  eloquently  told  of  a  Saviour's  love  will 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


475 


turn  white  until  the  blood  from  tils  own  wounds 
smothers  the  sound  of  his  la.^t  prayer,  while  impious 
hands  strij)  him  of  his  suit  of  gray,  and  mock  him  in 
hisi  dying  moments? 

Let  us  not  look  at  that  pieture  longer,  but  follow 
the  other  commissioner  back  to  the  waiting,  anxious 
friends  who  gather  around  the  door  of  the  Peace 
Commission  tent.  He  does  not  step  with  his  usual 
quick  motion ;  his  heart  is  heavy,  and  visions  of  a  little 
home,  with  weeping  wife  and  children,  enter  his 
mind.  Funeral  pageants  pass  and  mourning  emblems 
hang  now  over  his  soul.  But  he  is  firm,  and  his 
closed  lips  declare  that  his  mind  is  made  up. 

"Fairchild,  promise  me  upon  your  sacred  honor, 
one  thing.    Will  you  promise?  " 

The  gray-eyed  man  with  earnest  face  answered,  — 
"  I  promise  you  anything  in  my  power,  Meacham." 
"  Promise  me,  then,  that,  if  my  body  is  brought  in 
mutilated  and  cut  to  pieces,  you  will  bury  me  here, 
60  that  my  family  shall  never  be    tortured  by  the 
sight.     Do  you  promise?  " 
"  O  Meacham,  you  will  come  back  all  right." 
"  A^o,  no ;  I  won't.    I  feel  now  that  I  won't;  there  is 
no  chance  for  that.     I  tell  you,  John,  there  is  but  one 
alternative,  —  deaiJi  or  disgrace.     I  can  die ;  but  my 
name  never  has  been  and  never  shall  be  dishonored." 
Fairchild  draws  his  revolver  from  his  side  and  says, 
"Here,    Meacham,   take   this;   you  can  bang  brun- 
stone  out  of  'em  with  it." 

"Xo,  no;  John,  I  won't  take  it,  although  I  would 
rather  have  it  than  all  your  cattle ;  but  if  I  take  that 
revolver,  everybody  will  swear  that  I  precipitated  the 
fight  by  gomg  armed  in  violation  of  the  compact. 


47G 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


"No,  John,  I  wouldn't  take  it  if  I  knew  I  never  could 
come  back  without  it,  and  taking  it  would  save  me. 
I  won't  do  it.  My  life  would  not  be  worth  a  cent  if  I 
did.  I  wanted  you  to  go,  but  the  general  and  the 
doctor  objected;  so  there's  no  use  in  talking;  I  am 
going." 

A  man  passes  close  to  Meacham  and  drops  some- 
thing in  a  side  pocket  of  his  coat.  His  hand  grasps  it, 
and  his  face  indicates  hesitation.  Tiic  other  says,  in  a 
low  tone,  "  It's  sure  fire;  — it's  all  right."  'Tis  a  small 
Derringer  pistol,  and  it  is  not  thrown  out  of  the  pocket. 
Dyer  caught  sight  of  this  little  manoeuvri ,  and  he  goes 
into  his  tent  and  quickly  slips  a  Derringer  into  7iis 
pocket. 

The  Indian  woman  is  weeping  still.  She  refuses 
to  let  go  the  rope  of  Meacham's  horse,  until  the  com- 
mand is  repeated,  and  then  she  grasps  his  coat,  and 
pleads  again:  "You  no  go;  you  get  kill." 

"Let  go,  Tobey.  Get  on  your  horse.  All  ready? 
Mr.  Dyer,  there  is  no  other  way  to  do." 

Riddle  is  pale,  but  cool  and  collected.  He  says, 
"I'm  a-goin'  a-foot;  I  don't  want  no  horse  to  bother 
me."  The  Indian  woman  embraces  her  boy  again 
and  again,  and  mounts  her  horse.  Meacham,  Dyer, 
Kiddle,  and  his  wife  are  starting. 

Fairchild  says,  "Meacham,  you  had  better  take 
my  pistol.  I  would  like  to  go  with  you,  but  I  s'pose 
I  can't." 

"No;  I  won't  take  it.  Good-by.  Keep  your 
promise." 

"  Good-by,  Maj.  Thomas.  Cranston,  good-by. 
Good-by,  Col.  Wright.  Be  ready  to  come  for  us; 
we'll  need  you." 


"WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


477 


"  Don't  go  ofi'  feeling  that  way.  I  wouldn't  go  if 
I  felt  as  you  do,"  says  one. 

"  "VVc  will  have  an  eye  out  for  you,"  says  another. 

They  are  gone,  and  we  will  follow.  Canhy  and 
Thomas  arc  just  rising  out  of  a  rocky  chasm  near  the 
council  tent.  Mcacham  and  his  party  are  going  around 
by  the  horse  trail.  "Words  can  never  tell  the  thoughts 
that  pass  through  their  minds  on  that  ride.  The 
soldier  who  goes  to  battle  takes  even  chances  in  the 
line  of  his  profession;  the  criminal  may  march  with 
steady  nerve  np  the  steps  that  lead  him  to  the  gal- 
lows; but  who  can  ever  tell  in  words  the  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  temptations  of  these  men,  going  to  meet 
a  people  under  a  flag  of  truce  that  had  been  dishon- 
ored by  their  own  race  within  sight  of  the  spot  where 
they  are  to  meet  these  people,  after  the  earnest 
warning  they  had  received? 


if  1 


Fi 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

ASSASSINATION  —  "  KAU-TUX-E  "  —  THE    DEATH   PRAYER 
SMOTHERED   BY  BLOOD  —  RESCUED. 

"While  these  two  parties  are  wending  their  way  to 
the  council  tent,  let  us  see  what  is  going  on  around 
it.  On  the  side  opposite  from  the  camp  a  small  sage- 
brush fire  is  burning.  It  is  not  at  the  same  spot 
where  the  fire  was  built  when  Meacham  and  Rose- 
borough  had  the  long  talk  with  Captain  Jack  a  few 
days  since.  Why  this  change?  Think  a  moment. 
The  council  that  day  was  in  full  view  of  the  signal 
station.  This  fire  is  behind  the  council  tenty  and  can- 
not be  seen  from  the  station.  Around  the  fire  loose 
stones  are  placed.  This  looks  suspicious.  But  who 
are  those  fellows  dressed  like  white  men,  sitting  around 
that  fire?  Ah  I  they  are  Modocs  waiting  for  the 
commissioners.  That  man  with  a  slouched  hat  and 
well-worn  gray  coat,  nearest  the  tent,  is  Captain 
Jack.  He  looks  sad  and  half  melancholy,  and  does 
not  seem  at  ease  in  his  mind. 

!N^ear  him  sits  old  SchonchiP,  the  image  of  the  real 
savage.  His  hair  is  mixed  \\  ith  gray.  His  face  indi- 
cates that  he  is  a  villain. 

That  fellow  who  appears  restless,  and  walks  back 
and  forth,  is  Hooker  Jim.  He  is  not  more  than 
twenty-two  J  his  face  tells  you,  at  a  glance,  that  he  is 
a  cut-throat.  He  is  tall,  stout-built,  very  muscular, 
and  would  be  an  ugly  customer  in  a  fight.    He  is 


WIOWAM  AUD  WARPATH. 


479 


accredited  with  being  the  best  ^^  trailer y"^  and  the 
closest  marksman  in  the  Modoc  tribe. 

That  other  young  fellow,  with  feminine  face,  and 
hair  parted  in  the  middle,  "is  a  brave  and  desperate 
man.     That  is  Shacknasty  Jim. 

That  dark-looking  man,  who  reminds  you,  at  the 
first  view,  of  a  snake,  is  Black  Jim.  He  is  of  royal 
blood,  and  half-brother  of  Captain  Jack.  His  hair  is 
cut  square  below  the  ears,  and,  take  hun  altogether, 
he  is  a  bad-looking  man. 

The  light-colored,  round-faced,  smooth-built  man, 
who  stands  behind  the  chief,  is  "  Ellen's  Man."  He  is 
young,  and  is  really  a  fine-looking  fellow.  He  does 
not  appear  to  be  a  bad  man,  but  he  is;  and  you  will 
think  him  the  worst  of  the  company  before  we  lose 
sight  of  him. 

The  talk  around  that  council  fire  would  freeze  your 
blood  could  you  hear  it.  They  are  making  arrange- 
ments for  the  carnival  of  death  that  they  propose 
holding. 

The  chief  is  nervous,  and  speaks  of  his  regret  that 
this  thing  is  to  be.  "Ellen's  Man"  proposes  to  take  his 
place  if  he  lacks  courage.  "  I  do  not  lack  courage, 
but  I  do  not  feel  right  to  kill  those  men.  If  it  is  the 
Modoc  heart,  it  shall  be  done,"  replies  the  chief. 

Walk  out  towards  the  Modoc  camp  forty  steps, 
and  lying  behind  a  low  ledge  of  rocks  are  two  boys, 
Barncho  and  Slolux.  They  are  very  quiet,  but  under 
each  one  we  see  several  rifles.  They  are  both  young, 
and  have  volunteered  to  play  this  part  in  the  tragedy 
soon  to  be  enacted. 

Near  them  is  another  man,  crouching  low,  and  in 
his  hand  he  holds  a  gun,  with  its  muzzle  pointing 


i 


480 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


towards  the  tent.  His  face  indicates  a  much  older 
man  than  he  really  is.  He  is  not  there  to  take  a  part 
in  the  proceedings  of  the  coming  meeting,  except  in 
a  certain  contingency.  There  is  a  something  about 
him  that  declares  him  to  be  a  man  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary stamp.  This  is  Scar-face  Charley,  and  if,  in 
the  slaughter  that  is  to  ensue.  Riddle  or  his  wife 
should  fall,  the  rifle  that  that  man  grasps  will  talk  in 
vengeful  tone,  with  deadly  effect,  upon  the  mur- 
derer. 

Look  behind  you  at  the  council  fire.  Eight  In- 
dians are  there  now,  and  the  new-comers  have  familiar 
faces.  They  are  Bogus  and  Boston,  just  arrived  from 
head-quartcis.  They  are  telling  the  othprs  who  are 
coming,  that  they  are  all  iniarmed. 

Boston  intimates  something  like  regret  or  faltering 
in  the  purpose.  Bogus  declares  that  he  will  "  Do  it 
alone,  if  all  the  others  back  out.  Kill  these  men,  and 
the  war  Vy'ill  stop.     It  will  scare  all  the  soldiers  away." 

Hist!  here  comes  Gen.  Canby,  with  the  brass  but- 
tons on  his  coat  glittering  in  the  sunlight;  and  Dr. 
Thomas,  also,  who  is  so  well  worthy  to  walk  by  the 
side  of  the  general.  The  Indians  arise  and  greet 
them  cordially.  Gen.  Canby  takes  from  his  pocket  a 
handful  of  cigars,  offering  one  to  each.  They  ac- 
cept them  from  his  hand,  while  in  their  hearts  they 
have  determined  on  his  death.  The  gc.^^eral  and  all 
the  Indians  are  smoking  now.  The  thoughts  of  the 
gene  'al  will  never  be  known;  not  even  whether  he  had 
any  suspicion  of  their  intentions. 

Meucham  and  his  party  are  approaching.  They 
ride  up  very  near  the  council  fire,  —  Meacham  to  the 
right,  Dyer  and  Mrs.  Eiddle  to   the  left.     Riddle 


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ton*-.  ,. •    ■]..  *>*■•    i'"ic<^   ir.(]!<'at:oh  n  ma.'.ii  i/ider 

!  ■:  .  •.■■•..•(.•'Hiinii'.-  <K  1)i'.-  vonniw  li.v/etniu:..  except  ij* 
,1  .  ^-r'f  •!)  .iMiMii^;'^!!'  ^ ,.  TlK-rr  •-•  i\  8:'niCt.bir<;j:  about 
'  '-  ;  ;i!.i  tuA-WHs  iMdi  i<>  he  a  inriij  4'  in>>v<)  than  •ji';]!- 
niiiy  rtl-inip.  Tlii-  ':-  S'-nr-l'ic  (innH-j^y.  aiul  it,  in 
the  .slaii.iziitci-  1.ii:i!  is  ;.»  cii-iit,  llidilic  or  bi'^  wito 
shuulo  i;ill.  iin'  riii^'  t'lul  ih:;!  Ti.un  -/Ta^r'-;  wlli  lalk  ici 
vcr;::•'^i'ill    loicn    ^vith    deadly    eiuici,   li.ion    the   i.iur- 

Lo..K  (!!'!. ■iu!  V'^  "i'  i^'-'  ';'''Ui'.'il  ii'C\  Eiiihf  lit- 
ilinu:"  .-ir'.'  :';•''!'  !(()\v,  ard  !!;>■  u<  A'-i.-oiiu  i'-:  iiavo  familiar 
iiu-c-       !  :•  V  mt.    />  •',  •■'  •liid  ]i(>di'>i^  j'isL  arn\e(i  fixaa 


ijon 


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11. t, 


,"--v  .  :  ■   N'iiii;/  ;ho   oiljer^;  wh'^  a/e 

...  .    .di     .itJii'tiud. 

j.'-o^t'K  !:itii";Mi'    ,S(>jav.''rn\u'  1''^''  rogri't  or  falicriii.i^' 

i.vi  iuv  pii?'|>'.r;v.     '*<?fi-(i-^  (!.''j!ar(;>i  ll';!t  ii'' wii-  "Doit 

alotip,  ii."  ;d!  \h'   •■•'jn.-  i.>a.d<  •»'!.     KiH  tbc^r- men,  mul 

liK'^var  vs'i'l   'to[i.      li  \\  di  •■(•iirv.  ai'  iiif  .^oidici  ^  tHVay-'' 

lii-f'   hci-   ••<ii!t;.-  ■-»;ai.  i'anb^',  AirU  the  iiiass  bur- 

!':'l  i:Mi:    .r,-::  in  f^':*'  ^nalijrii! ;    ;aid  Dr. 

vdi;>  ''.-.      I  H.  ;{  \v.,rt,uy  io  \v;dlv  hy  1h>; 

■^J^^  1  /        '";,..    i  1  ii.,iv,    arise    and    ^ivQy  ' 

•  ;.•    •    i  ^^\  lakA-  iVovu  li'>-  i.'>ikcl  a 

;  ..i -.  o)\f.-  ,'^   i;iio  tt)  ca''i.i.     T'^^'y  ac- 

■<n   h.r^  i',.i*:d,  v^laii'  in   ihelr  hr-ai;--  thrv 


.iin-^      <■':      'ii- 


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iiir 


1  I'     Si,    •..■v.m_^    IimW*- 

••  vei  i.H'  Ivn».»vvTt; 


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rule  ii[)  N> 
riudu,  \)\^'v 


if'i  o:    I'-j   death      '^fhe'  ;/e»ural  .ui-l  al 

The  t]u>u;i;iii-  .-i  ih^ 
11.  >f  cveii  whcJher  he  ha 
'  liir''!'  intention^ 

1  hi.-  party  au-  ni;j)roa<hinGf,  The-'i 
ir  ihc;  ^oiine'l  tiro. —  Mcaeh;nn  to  t)v 
:    Mrs.    Kiddie   !;.>    the   led.     liald!. 


G  li  X .    C  A  X  B  y . 


f- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


481 


passes  to  the  left  of  the  tent,  looking  in  as  he  comes 
to  the  council. 

Meacham  is  taking  off  his  overcoat  before  dis- 
mounting. Why  is  this?  The  weather  is  not  warm. 
There  is  a  reason  for  this  strange  action. 

Before  reaching  the  tent  the  matter  had  been  dis- 
cussed by  the  four  persons  of  that  party.  Riddle 
declared  that  if  attacked  he  would  save  himself  by 
running,  Mr.  Dyer  saying  there  was  no  hope  of 
escape  in  any  other  way.  Meacham  considered  run- 
ning impracticable  and  hopeless,  and  suggested  that, 
"  if  we  stand  together,  we  can,  with  the  aid  of  the 
Derringer,  get  a  revolver  for  Riddle,  and  then  we 
can  all  be  armed  in  quick  time."  Dyer  and  Riddle 
adhered  to  the  plan  of  escape  they  had  proposed, 
Meacham  still  saying  that  it  was  hopeless,  and 
adding,  "I  cannot  run;  but  I  will  sell  my  life  as 
dearly  as  possible."  The  Derringer  is  in  his  under  coat. 

As  they  ride  up,  they  see  clearly  that  the  council 
fire  is  behind  the  tent,  out  of  sight  of  the  signal 
station,  and  that  the  Modocs  are  all  armed  with 
revolvers  secreted  under  their  clothing. 

The  Indians  welcome  the  party  with  a  cordiality 
that  is  very  suspicious.  They  are  good-humored, 
too;  another  confirmation  of  the  worst  fears.  Even 
before  the  party  dismount,  they  are  saluted  by  the 
Modocs  with  hand-shaking  and  other  demonstrations. 

Dyer  is  the  first  to  alight  from  his  horse.  He 
looks  a  little  pale.  Tobey  quietly  dismounts,  securing 
her  horse  to  a  small  sage  brush  near  the  council. 
Meacham  still  sits  upon  his  horse,  apparently  listless, 
as  if  in  doubt.  He  is  fighting  a  battle  with  his  pride. 
His  family  are  in  his  thoughts,  and  also  another 


482 


WIGWA3I  AND  AVARPATH. 


family  of  little  orphans  of  a  much-loved  brother.  He 
glances  at  the  face  of  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas. 
His  mind  is  made  up.  He  dismounts,  dropping  the 
halter  of  the  horse  upon  the  ground.  He  intends 
that  "  Joe  Lane  "  (the  horse)  shall  have  a  chance  for 
escape.  But  "  Joe  Lane  "  is  well  known  among  the 
Modocs.  They  have  seen  him  before,  and  they  fix  their 
eyes  on  him  now,  impatient  to  feel  him  flying  over  the 
plains.  Perhaps  they  are  making  a  calculation  of  his 
value  as  an  offset  to  several  of  the  ponies  captured 
from  them  by  Maj.  Biddle  a  few  days  previous. 

See  the  manoeuvring  going  on  by  both  parties. 
The  Modocs  are  seeking  to  separate  themselves  from 
the  white  men,  while  Dyer,  Meacham  aijd  Riddle  are 
seeking  to  prevent  the  formation  of  a  tableau  of 
white  men.  Canby  stands  erect  and  firm,  not  seem- 
ing to  notice  the  game  that  is  playing  before  his  eyes. 
His  pride  will  not  permit  him  to  notice  or  to  shun 
what  is  evidently  the  intention  of  the  Modocs.  Dr. 
Thomas  does  not  see  what  is  going  on,  or,  if  he  does, 
so  strong  is  his  faith  in  God  that  he  does  not  fear. 
Dyer  and  Riddle  are  outside  on  either  hand,  not 
wishing  to  join  the  group. 

Meacham,  now  satisfied  that  the  party  are  en- 
trapped, is  walking  carelessly  a  few  steps  towards 
the  camp.  Perhaps  he  is  going  to  make  a  signal  to 
those  at  the  lookout.  If  that  was  his  intention,  he 
abandons  it;  for  just  beside  him  are  a  pair  of  small, 
bullet  eyes  that  watch  his  every  movement. 

The  party  feel  that  not  the  motion  of  even  an  eye 
is  lost  by  the  Modocs.  They  see  everything,  and, 
while  all  are  apparently  on  the  best  of  terms,  all  are 
on  the  lookout  for  any  sign  or  intimation  of  <ianger. 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


483 


Not  a  motion  is  made  unobserved.  Still,  no  unkindly- 
words  are  spoken;  indeed,  all  parties  appear  to  be  in 
cheerful  humor. 

Appearances  are  deceitful  sometimes,  and  especially 
in  this  instance.  One  party  is  intending  to  commit 
an  unparalleled  crime;  the  other,  suspicious  of  their 
intention,  awaits  the  issue,  not  quite  without  hope, 
but  almost  in  despair. 

The  white  men  do  not  seem  anxious  to  begin  the 
council.     The  Modocs  are  trying  to  appear  careless. 

What  does  that  mean?  Bogus  is  going  out  to- 
wards a  low  cliff,  carrying  his  rifle  with  him.  Watch 
him  a  moment.  While  standing  on  a  prominent  rock, 
he  is  scanning  the  ledge  that  runs  towards  the 
soldiers'  camp.  Ah,  yes!  he  is  looking  for  sage 
brush  with  which  to  feed  the  fire.  !N'ow  he  has  laid 
down  his  gun  and  breaks  off  the  brush  and  returns  to 
the  council.  That,  then,  was  the  pretended  object  of 
his  trip.  Curious  that  in  all  former  councils  the  Mo- 
doc women  have  performed  this  work,  but  that  none 
of  them  are  here  now! 

Hooker  Jim  is  on  the  alert,  and  if  you  will  watch 
his  eye  you  will  see  that  it  glances  often  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  soldiers'  camp.  Something  excites  his 
suspicion,  and  the  other  Indians,  except  Captain  Jack, 
follow  his  gaze ;  and  the  white  men,  too,  discover  some 
one's  head  above  the  rocks.  All  arise  to  their  feet. 
Is  the  terrible  affair  to  begin  now?  Wait  a  moment 
and  keep  your  eyes  divided,  watching  the  intruder 
and  the  Modocs.  The  former  is  looking  around  him, 
as  if  hunting  for  some  lost  article.  The  latter  are 
nervous,  and  a  hateful  fire  is  burning  in  their  eyes. 
The  moment  is  one  of  intense  peril.    The  least  mo- 


484 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


tioj^  of  distrust  now  on  the  part  of  the  white  men 
will  precipitate  the  bloody  scene,  awaiting  only  for  a 
signal  to  begin. 

Mr.  Riddle  recognizes  the  intruder  as  Mr.  Clark, 
who  is  hunting  lost  horses. 

"AVhy  fqr  he  come  here?  "We  no  want  him,"  says 
Boston  Charley. 

"Mr.  Dyer,  will  you  go  out  to  Mr.  Clark  and  send 
him  back?  "  requests  Mr.  Meacham. 

Mr.  Dyer  rides  out  to  the  man,  and,  after  explaining 
to  him  the  desire  of  the  commissioners,  returns  to  the 
council  fire.  Oh,  how  near  we  were  to  witnessing  a 
horrible  murder!  But  it  is  averted  for  the  moment, 
and  we  breathe  again. 

Meacham'  is  in  charge  of  the  council  talk,  and 
finally  sits  down  near  the  fire,  and  Captain  Jack  takes 
a  seat  directly  oj^posite  him,  and  so  close  that  their 
knees  almost  touch.     The  council  talk  begins. 

Meacham  says,  "We  have  come  to-day  to  hear 
what  you  have  to  propose.  You  sent  for  us,  and  we 
are  here  to  conclude  the  terms  of  peace,  as  your  mes- 
sengers of  yesterday  requested." 

To  this  Captain  Jack  replies,  "  We  want  no  more 
war.  "We  are  tired,  and  our  women  and  children  are 
afraid  of  the  soldiers.  "We  want  them  taken  away, 
and  then  we  can  make  peace." 

Meacham  says,  "  Gen.  Canby  is  in  charge  of  the 
soldiers.  He  is  your  friend.  He  came  here,  because 
the  President  sent  him  to  look  out  for  everybody  and 
to  see  that  everything  goes  on  all  right." 

Captain  Jack  replies,  "  We  do  not  want  the  sol- 
diers here.  They  make  our  hearts  afraid.  Send  them 
away,  and  we  can  make  everything  all  right." 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


485 


Meacham  continues,  "  Gen.  Canby  has  charge  of 
the  soldiers.  He  cannot  take  them  away  without  a 
letter  from  the  President.  You  need  not  be  afraid. 
We  are  all  your  friends.  We  can  find  you  a  better 
home  than  this,  where  you  can  live  in  peace.  If  you 
will  come  out  of  the  rocks  and  go  with  us,  wc  wull 
leave  the  women  and  children  in  camp  over  on  Cot- 
tonwood or  Hot  Creek,  and  then  we  shall  need  the 
soldiers  to  make  other  folks  stay  away,  while  we  hunt 
up  a  new  home  for  you." 

Kiddle  and  his  wife  are  both  essential  to  a  careful 
rendering  of  the  speeches.  Riddle  is  interpreting  the 
Modocs'  speeches  into  "  Boston  talk,"  and  Tobey  is 
translating  the  white  men's  speeches  into  the  "  Mo-a- 
doc-us-ham-konk  " — (Modoc  language) .  Hence  they 
are  both  giving  closest  attention.  Riddle  stands  now 
just  behind  the  chairman  of  the  commissioners.  To- 
bey is  sitting  a  little  to  the  left.  Gen.  Canby  scats 
himself  upon  a  rock  on  Meacham's  right,  about  three 
feet  distant.  Old  Schonchin  sits  down  in  front  of 
him.  Dr.  Thomas  bends  a  sage  bush,  and,  laying  his 
overcoat  upon  it,  also  sits  on  the  left  and  in  the  rear 
of  Meacham. 

Hooker  Jim  is  restless  and  very  watchful ;  some- 
times standing  immediately  behind  Captain  Jack,  and 
occasionally  walking  ofi"  a  few  steps,  he  scans  the 
rocks  in  the  direction  of  the  soldiers'  camj),  and 
saunters  back  again,  always,  however,  in  front  of  the 
white  men.  Keep  an  eye  on  him;  he  is  making  now  a 
declaration  by  his  acts  that  will  stop  your  heart's  l)lood. 

"Joe  Lane,"  the  horse,  is  just  behind  Captain  Jack, 
standing  a  mute  and  unsuspecting  witness  of  the  act 
now  being  played. 


48G 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


Watch  that  demon,  Hooker  Jiml  See  him  stoop 
down,  and  while  his  eye  is  fixed  on  Meacham,  he  is 
securing  "Joe  Lane"  to  a  sage  l)ush,  pushing  the 
knot  of  the  halter  close  to  the  ground.  He  slowly 
rises,  and,  while  jiatting  the  horse  on  the  neck,  call- 
ing him  by  name,  and  telling  him  he  is  a  "  fine  horse," 
still  keeping  his  eye  on  Meacham,  with  his  left  hand 
he  takes  the  overcoat  fi'om  the  saddle,  and  with  a 
stealthy,  hall-hesitating  motion,  slowly  inserts  his 
arm  in  the  sleeve,  and  then  without  changing  his 
position  or  his  eyes,  quickly  thrusts  his  right  arm  in 
the  other  sleeve,  and  with  a  heavy  shrug  jerks  the 
coat  squarely  on  his  shoulders;  and,  haying  buttoned 
it  up  from  top  to  bottom,  smiting  hi^  Licast  with 
his  hand,  he  says,  "Me  old  man  Meacham,  now. 
Bogus,  you  think  me  look  like  old  man  Meacham?" 
My  dear  reader,  he  does  not  fasten  that  horse  for 
Meacham.  He  does  not  put  on  the  coat  because  he  is 
cold,  nor  merely  as  a  joke.  ISTo,  he  does  not  mean 
anything  of  that  kind.  He  intends  to  make  sure  of 
the  horse  and  coat,  and,  at  the  same  time,  provoke  a 
quarrel,  and  make  the  way  easy  for  the  bloody  attack. 

Meacham  fully  understands  the  import  and  intention 
of  this  side-play,  but,  with  assumed  indifiercnce,  re- 
marks, "  Hooker  Jim,  you  had  better  take  my  hat 
also,"  at  the  same  time  lifting  it  from  his  head.  Watch 
the  play  on  that  scoundrel's  face  as  he  replies,  "  No. 
Sno-ker  gam-bla  sit-ka  caitch-con-a  bos-ti-na  chock- 
i-la  "  —  ("  I  will,  by-and-by.     Don't  hurry,  old  man.") 

This  speech  completes  the  declaration  of  what  they 
intended  to  do.  There  can  be  no  longer  any  doubt 
as  to  the  purpose  of  these  bloodthirsty  desperadoes. 
O  God  I   is  there  no  help  now  ?    Can  nothing  be 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


487 


done  to  save  our  friends  ?  They  read  their  fate  in 
Ilookcr's  action.  They  realize  how  fearfully  near  the 
impending  doom  must  be.  Every  face  is  blanched  ; 
but  no  words  of  fear  arc  uttered.  Dyer,  with  a  face 
of  marble,  walks  slowly  to  his  hoi'sc,  now  on  the  right 
of  the  group,  and,  going  to  the  farthest  side  of  him, 
l)retends  to  be  arranging  the  trai)pings  of  his  saddle 
with  his  face  towards  the  council  fire,  lliddle,  pale 
and  aghast,  makes  excuse  to  change  the  fastenings 
of  the  saddle  on  his  wife's  horse,  which  stands  behind 
Dr.  Thomas.  Tobey,  who  has  been  sitting  in  front 
of  the  doctor,  with  a  half  child-like  yawn  throws  her- 
self carelessly  at  full  length  on  the  ground,  resting  on 
her  elbows.  Every  act  tells,  too  plainly  to  be  mis- 
taken, how  each  one  feels  and  what  they  arc  expecting. 
Botii  Dyer  and  Kiddle  intend  to  be  covered  by  their 
horses  when  they  start  on  a  run  for  life.  Tobey  evi- 
dently does  not  mtend  to  be  in  the  way  of  the  bullets 
that  are  now  lying  quietly  on  their  beds  of  p^jwder  in 
the  little  iron  chambers  of  the  pistols  under  the  coats 
of  the  red  devils.  She  sees  clearly  that  the  storm, 
which  is  evidently  coming  up  with  a  great  black 
hurrying  cloud  from  the  west,  will  precipitate  the 
effusion  of  blood  that  is  now  leaping  and  halting  in 
the  veins  of  the  doomed  men  who  sit  almost  motion- 
less, waiting,  watching,  listening  for  the  signal  of 
death  to  be  given,  wondering  how  it  will  come. 
"VYill  it  be  from  ambushed  men,  a  volley,  a  sting,  nd 
a  war-whoop  ;  and  then,  while  the  soul  is  making  its 
exit,  will  the  eye,  growing  dim,  behold  the  infuriated 
monsters,  with  gleaming  laiives  uplifted,  spring  on 
the  helpless  body  ?  Will  the  ear,  as  life  ebbs  away, 
be  lulled  by  streams  of  blood  trickling  on  the  rocks  ? 


1 


488 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATTI. 


Arc  angels  hovering  near  to  convey  their  sonls  awny  ? 
Is  God  omnipresent  ?  Is  He  omniscient  V  Is  He 
omnipotent  ?  Does  he  hear  prayer  ?  Will  not  God 
interpose  now  when  hnman  aid  is  beyond  reach  ? 

Oh,  how  the  mind  recalls  the  past,  ontstripping  the 
lightning  flash,  while  it  jiasses  in  review  the  scenes 
from  the  cradle  to  this  hour! — all  the  bright  and 
happy  days ;  the  dark  clouds  and  direful  storms  that 
have  swept  over  the  soul,  and  realizing  the  still  more 
awful  agony  of  the  farewell  greetings  of  sad-faced 
Hope  leaving  the  heart;  for  until  this  last  act  of  Hooker 
Jim's  she  had  lingered  lovingly  on  the  threshold  un- 
decided. AVords  may  not  tell  the  anguish,  the  gloom, 
the  terrible  loneliness  without  her  presence.  Every 
heart  breathes  a  prayer  for  her  return.  "  Oh,  come 
back  to  us  now ;  be  with  us  in  this  expinng  hour  of 
life's  last  midnight  I  " 

Thank  Heaven,  she  comes  again  clad  in  garments, 
not  as  in  days  past,  made  up  of  ambitions  and  worldly 
dreams,  but  in  shining  robes  of  spotless  purity  and 
immortal  light,  and  she  whispers,  "  Be  of  guou  cheer, 
the  journey  is  short,  and  it  is  but  a  change  from  one 
life  to  another;"  and  though  the  voyage  be  stormy 
and  the  night  be  dark  it  will  end  in  a  morning  of 
eternal  day  in  the  beautiful  sunlit  summer-land  where 
sorrows  come  no  more. 

Meacham  turns  towards  Gen.  Canby  and  invites 
him  to  talk.  Every  movement  is  scrutinized  by 
the  Modocs.  Meacham  has  made  an  excuse  to  look 
Gen.  Canby  in  the  face.  He  sees  plainly  that  the 
general  understands  the  situation.  "Will  he,  oh !  will 
he  not  promise  to  remove  the  soldiers  on  the  demand 
that  has  been  so  often  made  ?    It  would  avert  the 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


489 


tragody.  It  would  save  llio  lives  that  ni'o  hanging  on 
his  words.  Will  he  do  it  ?  Surely,  now,  when  con- 
vinced, as  he  mUHt  be,  that  the  threat  will  be  executed, 
will  he  not  feel  justified  in  yielding  V  Kow  that  the 
Modocs  have  absolved  him  from  all  obligations  to 
them,  will  he  grant  their  request;  or  will  the  high  and 
extraordinary  sense  of  honor  that  controlled  his  reply 
to  Meacham  in  the  morning,  when  the  latter  ])i'<)posed 
to  grant  "  any  demand  made,  rather  than  give  the 
assassins  an  excuse  for  murder,"  control  him  now  ? 
Every  eye  is  on  him.  The  Modocs  imderstand  that 
he  is  chief. 

He  stands  upright  in  form,  and  character  as  well. 
He  looks  the  great  man  he  is.  His  face  alone  shows 
the  intensity  of  his  feelings.  His  lip  <[uivers  slightly, 
as  it  always  does  iinder  excitement.  He  speaks 
slowly  :  — 

"  Tobey,  tell  these  people  that  the  President  of  the 
United  vStates  sent  the  soldiers  here  to  protect  them 
as  well  as  the  white  men.  They  are  all  friends  of  the 
Indians.  They  cannot  he  taken  away  ivithout  the 
PresidenVs  consent.  Tell  them  that  when  I  was  a 
young  man  I  was  sent  to  move  a  band  of  Indians  from 
their  old  home  to  a  new  one.  They  did  not  like  me 
at  first,  but  when  they  became  acquainted  with  me 
they  liked  me  so  well  that  they  made  me  a  chief,  and 
gave  me  a  name  that  signified  ^Friend  of  the  Indian.' 
I  also  removed  another  tribe  to  a  new  home ;  and  they, 
too,  made  me  a  chief,  and  gave  me  a  name  that  meant 
*The  tall  man.'  Many  years  afterwards  I  visited  these 
people,  and  they  came  a  long  distance  to  meet  me, 
and  were  very  glad  to  see  me.  Tell  them  I  have 
no  doubt  that  sometime  the  Modocs  will  like  me  aa 


U 


u| 


490 


WIGWAM  AND  WARrATH. 


those  people  did,  and  will  recognize  me  as  their 
friend  " 

As  the  generul  sits  down,  Meacham  turns  to  Doc- 
tor Thomas,  and  invites  him  to  speak.  The  doctor 
drops  fonuard  on  Ms  Tcnees,  and,  with  his  right  hand 
on  Meacham's  left  shoulder,  says,  "  Tobey,  tell  these 
people,  for  me,  that  I  belie  e  the  Great  Spirit  put  it 
into  the  heart  of  the  President  to  send  us  here  to 
make  peace.  We  are  all  children  of  one  Father.  Our 
hearts  are  all  open  to  Him.  He  sees  all  we  do.  He 
knows  all  our  hearts.  We  are  all  their  friends.  I 
have  known  Gen.  Canby  eight  years ;  I  have  known 
Mr.  Meacham  fourteen  years,  and  I  have  known  Mr. 
Dyer  four  years.  I  know  all  their  hearts  are  good. 
They  are  good  men.  We  do  not  want  any  more 
bloodshed.  We  want  to  be  friends  of  yours.  God 
sees  all  we  do.  He  will  hold  us  all  responsible  for 
what  we  do." 

The  doctor  resumes  his  seat.  Captain  Jack  is  ill 
at  ease.  His  men  are  watching  him  closely.  They 
evidently  distrust  him. 

Meacham  has  almost  decided  in  his  mind  that  when 
the  attack  is  made  Captain  Jack  will  throw  himself  in 
the  breach,  and,  if  he  takes  part  at  all,  it  will  be  with 
the  white  men. 

The  chief  is  slow  to  give  the  signal  to  begin.  He 
is  not  in  position  according  to  the  programme  ar- 
ranged in  the  morning.  He  had  hoped  thac  the  de- 
mand for  the  withdrawal  of  the  troops  would  be 
complied  with.  He  sits  now  with  his  hands  on  his 
Imees,  staring  into  Meacham's  face.  He  meets  a  gaze 
intense  as  his  own.  What  are  the  thoughts  of  his 
mind?    He  is  wavering.    Perhaps  he  may  refuse  to 


WIGWAai  AND  WARPATH. 


491 


sanction  the  butchery.  He  feels  that  his  own  peop'c 
arc  watching  him.  Suddenly,  rising  to  his  feet,  hv. 
turns  his  back  on  the  white  men.  He  is  walking 
away  from  them.  Seel  he  stops!  Schoncb in  springs 
to  the  seat  Captain  Jack  has  left,  and,  with  eyes 
gleaming  with  the  pent-up  fury  of  hell,  begins  to 
talk.  His  voice  is  loud,  and  betokens  great  excite- 
ment. How  savage  he  looks  now,  while  he  says, 
"Give  us  Hot  Creek  for  a  home,  and  take  the  soldiers 
away." 

"Maybe  we  cannot  get  Hot  Creek  for  y  :)u,"  replies 
Mr.  Meacham. 

Then  Schonchin  says,  "  I  have  been  told  we  could 
have  Hot  Creek." 

Meacham  asks,  "  Did  Fairchild  or  Dorris  say  you 
could  have  it?" 

"  No,"  replied  Schonchin;  "but  ISTate  Beswick  said 
we  could  have  Hot  Creek." 

"  Hot  Creek  belongs  to  Fairchild  and  Dorris,"  says 
Meacham.  "  We  can  see  them  about  i^,  and  if  we  can 
get  it  you  may  have  it." 

"  Tal:e  away  your  soldiers  and  give  us  Hot  Creeks 
or  quit  talking.  I  am  tired  of  talking.  I  talk  no 
more,-^  shouts  Schonchin  in  loud  tones,  and  with  eyes 
burning  with  passion. 

The  interpreter  is  rendering  the  spee""?,  but,  before 
it  is  finished,  Captain  Jack,  who  has  r*  turned  to  the 
group,  and  is  standing  a  step  behind  Sclionchin,  gives 
a  signal,  and  the  Modoc  war-whoop  starts  every  one 
present  to  his  feet  (except  Tobc^y,  who  lays  close  to 
the  ground);  catching  the  sound,  and  on!  the  sight, 
too,  of  Barncho  and  Slolux  coming  with  the  riilos. 

"Jack,  what  does  that  mean?  "  demands  Meacham. 


i 

m 

■■* 


If 


492 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


The  answer  came  qnicldy.  Captain  Jack,  thrust- 
ing his  right  hand  under  the  left  breast  of  his  coat, 
draws  a  six-shooter,  and  shouts  in  a  loud,  voice,  "  Ot- 
we-lcan-tux!  " —  ("  All  ready!  ") 

Holding  the  barrel  with  his  left  hand,  and  cocking 
the  pistol  with  his  right,  he  points  it  at  Gen.  Canbj's 
h\.ud,  touches  the  trigger,  and  explodes  the  cap,  but 
does  not  the  powder.  Quickly  he  revolves  the  cylin- 
der, and  again  presents  it  to  the  petrified  general,  who 
stands  unmoved.  Wh}^,  oh,  why  does  he  not  close 
on  the  monster,  and  wrench  the  weapon  from  him? 
Quick,  general,  quick!  He  is  too  late.  Anolher 
instant,  and  a  shot  is  passing  through  his  ^lead.  He 
does  not  fall,  but  turns  and  flees.  Jack  an.l  "Ellen's 
Man  "  pursue  him  until  he  falls  on  the  rocks.  They 
close  on  him.  Captain  Jack  holds  him  by  the  shoul- 
der, while  the  other  cuts  him  across  the  neck.  In  the 
foil  his  chin  struck  on  the  rocks  and  shattered  his 
lower  jaw.  The  monsters  strip  him  of  every  article 
of  clothing,  while  he  is  straggling  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  Barncho  comes  up  now,  and  "  Ellen's  Man  " 
snatches  a  rifle  from  his  hands,  and,  pointing  at  the 
general,  discharges  it,  and  another  ball  passes  entirely 
through  his  head.  They  turn  him  on  his  face,  and 
leave  him.in  the  last  agony  of  a  horrible  de'ath,  while, 
wiih  his  uniform  on  their  arms,  they  go  back  to  the 
council  tent. 

Look  towards  the  soldiers'  camp.  Two  men  are 
running.  The  foremost  one  is  Dyer,  and  following 
him  is  Hooker  Jim,  who  fires  repeatedly  at  Dyer,  who 
turns,  and  pointing  his  pistoi,  Jim  drops  to  avoid  the 
shot.  Dyer  resumes  his  run  for  life,  and  the  other 
follows  until  Dyer  has  widened  the  space  between 


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WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


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them  so  much  that  Hooker  Jim,  fleet  as  he  is,  aban- 
dons the  chase,  and  returns  to  join  the  other  mur- 
derers. 

Over  towards  the  lake  two  other  men  are  running. 
The  foremost  one  is  Frank  Riddle.  The  pursuer  is 
Black  Jim,  who  fires  rapidly  at  Kiddle;  in  fact,  he  is 
not  trying  to  hit  him,  because  he  knows  that  Scar- 
face  Charley  is  watching,  and  if  Riddle  falls  by  a 
shot  from  Black  Jim,  Black  Jim  himself  will  fall  by 
Scar-face  Charley's  rifle. 

Simultaneously  with  Jack's  first  attack  on  General 
Canby,  Boston  Charley's  first  shot  struck  Dr.  Thomas 
in  the  left  breast,  above  the  heart.  The  doctor  drops 
partly  down,  and  catches  with  his  right  hand,  and 
with  the  other  uplifted  towards  his  assassin,  begs  him 
to  shoot  no  more,  as  he  has  already  received  a  death- 
wound.  Bogus  joins  Boston.  They  permit  the  doc- 
tor to  get  upon  his  feet,  and  start  to  run,  when  they 
trip  him  and  he  falls  again.  They  taunt  him  with  his 
religion,  saying,  "Why  don't  you  turn  the  bullets? 
Your  medicine  is  not  strong."  The  doctor  rises  again 
and  walks  a  few  steps,  when  they  push  him  down, 
still  ridiculing  him.  Again  he  pleads  for  them  to 
spare  his  life.  They  laugh  in  his  face  and  say,  "  I^ext 
time  you  believe  a  squaw,  won't  you?"  Once  more 
—  and  it  is  the  last  time  that  he  will  ever  walk  in  that 
bruised  and  mangled  body  —  the  doctor  rises  to  his 
feet,  and,  going  a  few  steps,  pleading  with  his  inhu- 
man tormentors  for  mercy,  and  with  his  Maker  for 
mercy  on  them,  he  falls  to  rise  no  more.  Slolux  joins 
them,  and  Bogus,  placing  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  towards 
the  doctor'b  head,  sends  another  bullet  crashing 
through  it.    The  red  devils  now  strip  him  of  his 


496 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


li 


clothiiigj  jesting  and  mocking  his  words  of  prayer, 
and  finally  turn  him  face  downwards,  while  through 
the  blood  from  the  wounds  on  his  lips  he  cries,  "  Come, 
Lord  — "  and  the  prayer  is  smothered  forever. 

When  the  signal  for  the  attack  was  given,  Schon- 
chin  was  in  position,  and,  springing  to  his  feet,  he 
draws  a  revolver  from  his  left  side,  and,  with  his  other 
hand,  unsheathes  a  knife.  He  is  so  near  his  victim 
that  he  dare  not  trust  to  a  pistol  alone.  He  is  very 
much  excited,  and  is  not  so  quick  as  the  others  in 
cocking  his  pistol. 

Meacham  draws  his  Derringer,  and  pushing  the 
muzzle  squarely  against  the  heart  of  Schonchin,  pulls 
the  trigger,  but,  alas!  it  does  not  fire.  Why?  Oh! 
why?  He  tries  again,  and  still  the  hammer  does  not 
fall.  He  now  discovers  that  it  is  but  half-cocked. 
Too  late  I  too  late!  Schonchin  thrusts  Ms  pistol  for- 
ward, almost  touching  Mcacham's  face.  The  latter 
jumps  back  and  stoops,  while  the  ball  from  Si';hon- 
chin's  pistol  tears  through  the  collar  of  his  coat,  vest, 
and  shirt  on  the  left  shoulder,  so  close  that  the  pow- 
der burns  his  whiskers  and  the  bullet  bruises  him. 
He  runs  backwards  with  the  pistol  now  ready  for  use, 
but  with  Schonchin  pursuing  hun  and  firing  as  fast  as 
he  can  until  his  pistol  is  empty.  IN^ow  he  drops  it  on 
the  ground,  and,  drawing  another  from  his  right  side, 
he  continues  the  attack,  but  dare  not  close  on  the  Der- 
ringer still  in  the  hands  of  Meacham.  Why  does  not 
the  pursued  man  fire?  He  is  a  good  shot.  Why 
don't  he  drop  the  old  scoundrel?  He  was  very  much 
frightened  when  the  attack  began,  but,  like  a  soldiei 
in  battle,  he  has  passed  that,  and  is  terribly  cool  now. 
He  dare  not  risk  his  only  shot,  for  fear  of  missing 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


497 


Schonchin,  and  because  of  the  danger  of  hitting 
Tobey,  for  she  is  now  interposing  for  his  life,  and, 
putting  her  hand  on  Schonehin's  pistol,  turns  it  away 
again  and  again,  while  pleading,  "Don't  kill  him  I 
don't  kill  MeachamI  He  is  the  friend  of  the  In- 
dians." Slolux  joins  Schonchin,  and,  with  his  gun, 
strikes  the  woman  on  the  head,  while  Shacknasty, 
snatching  it  from  him,  says,  "  I'll  fetch  him,"  at  the 
same  time  sitting  down  and  taking  deliberate  aim. 
Meacham,  striking  his  breast  with  his  left  hand,  shouts, 
"  Shoot  me  there,  you  cowardly  red  devil  I  "  Tobey 
strikes  down  the  gun.  Shacknasty  threatens  her,  and 
again  takes  aim  and  fires  just  as  Meacham  leaps  over 
a  low  ledge  of  rocks  and  falls.  "  I  hit  him,  high  up  I 
He  is  all  right!"  shouts  Shaclaiasty. 

Meacham  now  decides  to  fire  his  only  shot,  and 
pushing  the  pistol  up  over  the  rocks,  carefully  raises 
his  head,  with  it  thrown  back,  and  just  as  his  eye 
comes  above  the  rocks,  he  sees  Schonchin  sitting  with 
his  revolver  resting  on  his  knee.  Instantly  a  flash 
and  a  sting,  and  a  ball  strikes  Meacham  in  the  fore- 
head, betwecm  th'^  eyes.  Strange  freak  of  the  bullet 
that  passes  imder  the  oye-brow  and  out  over  the  left 
eye,  but  docs  not  blind  the  other  eye.  Meacham  now 
fires  at  Schonchin,  who  leaps  up  and  falls  on  the 
rocks,  wounded.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  a  ball 
passes  through  Meacham's  right  arm.  The  pistol 
drops.  Another  liall  cuts  away  the  upper  part  of  his 
right  ear,  and  still  another  strikes  him  on  the  right 
side  of  the  head  and  glances  off.  He  quivers,  and 
his  limbs  are  outstretched,  denoting  the  death-strug- 
gle. Shacknasty  is  the  first  to  reach  him,  and  he 
proceeds  to  strip  him  of  his  clothing,  first  pulling  hia 


498 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


boots  off,  then  his  pantaloons,  and,  while  taking  off 
his  coat,  tears  the  vest  down  at  the  side  and  throws 
it  away.  Then  he  strips  him  of  his  shirt,  for  it  is  a 
good  one,  and  Shacknasty  saves  it  for  his  own  use. 

While  he  is  unbuttoning  the  shirt  at  the  neck,  Slo- 
lux  comes  up,  and,  placing  the  muzzle  of  the  gun 
close  to  the  temple  of  the  wounded  man,  sets  the 
hammer,  and  as  he  raises  it  up  to  his  face  to  get  it  in 
range,  Shacknasty  pushes  it  away,  saying  in  Modoc, 
"  You  needn't  shoot.  He  is  dead.  He  won't  get  up." 
Hearing  the  voice  of  Captain  Jack  calling,  they  leave 
the  scene,  saying  to  Tobey,  "  There  lies  another  of 
your  brothers,  you  white-hearted  squaw  I  Go  and 
take  care  of  him.     You  are  no  Modoc." 

This  hour  seems  to  have  inherited  even  the  wrath 
of  the  Almighty.  The  blackness  of  unnatural  night 
hangs  over  this  scene  of  blood.  Gen.  Canby's  limbs 
have  straightened  on  yonder  rocks,  but  a  few  steps  to 
the  west,  and  his  stark  body  looks  ghastly  in  the 
awful  gloom.  Twenty  yards  to  the  east  the  form  of 
Dr.  Thomas,  his  body  half  stripped  and  covered  with 
blood,  is  still  convulsing,  while  his  face  presses  the 
cold  rocks. 

The  chief  calls  again  to  the  red-handed  demons 
and  bids  them  flee  to  the  stronghold.  They  gather 
around  him  with  the  clothing  of  the  slain  still  drip- 
ping blood  upon  their  feet.  They  are  exulting  by 
wild  shouts  of  half-satiated  thirst  for  blood.  While 
glancing  towards  the  soldiers'  camp  they  reload  their 
arms. 

"  I  am  going  to  have  old  man  Meacham's  scalp  to 
put  on  my  shot-pouch,"  says  Boston,  passing  the 
doctor's  clothing  to  a  companion  standing  near. 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


499 


5? 


Ip  to 
the 


"  He  has  no  scalp,^'  breaks  in  Hooker  Jim,  "  or  I 
would  have  it  myself." 

Boston  now  runs  to  where  the  bleeding  man  is 
lying,  and  takes  from  his  pocket  a  small  two-bladed, 
black-handled  knife  which  had  been  taken  from  the 
pocket  of  a  soldier  who  was  killed  in  the  January 
battle.  The  Indian  woman  is  wiping  the  blood  from 
the  mutilated  face,  now  upturned  with  closed  eyes. 
Boston  thrusts  her  aside,  and  with  his  left  hand,  still 
red  with  the  blood  of  Dr.  Thomas,  graspji  the  largest 
locks,  and  makes  a  stroke  with  the  knife.  The  woman 
remembers  that  the  prostrate  man  over  whom  Boston 
is  bending  has  been  her  benefactor,  and  that  through 
his  official  action,  in  1869,  he  compelled  Frank  Kid- 
dle to  make  her  a  lawful  wife^  and  that,  had  it  not 
been  for  this  man,  she  would  now,  perhaps,  be  a  cast- 
off  squaw.  She  cannot  restrain  her  indignation,  but 
rushes  against  the  red  cut-throat  and  hurls  him  back 
on  to  the  rocks.  He  rises  and  threatens  to  take  her  life 
if  she  again  interferes,  taunting  her  with  being  a 
"white  woman."  Stamping  on  the  prostrate  man's 
head,  he  places  one  foot  on  his  neck,  and  renews  his 
attempt  to  secure  an  ornament  for  his  shot-pouch, 
swearing  because  he  found  no  better  scalp,  but  saying 
that  he  would  take  one  ear  with  it.  With  his  left 
hand  resting  on  the  head,  he  cuts  square  down  to  the 
skull  a  long,  half-circular  gash  preparatory  to  taking 
off  the  side  lock  and  ear,  too,  with  his  knife. 

Tobey  now  resorts  to  strategy  to  accomplish  what 
she  cannot  do  otherwise.  Looking  towards  the  sol- 
diers' camp  she  claps  her  hands  and  shouts,  "  Bos- 
tee-na  soldiers.  Kot-pumbla!" —  ("  The  soldiers  are 
coming! ")     Boston,  without  waiting  to  ascertain  the 


I 


500 


WIGWA3I   AND  WARPATH. 


truth  of  the  warning,  starts  suddenly  and  leaves  the 
woman  alone  with  the  dead. 

Tobey's  warning  to  Boston  has  reached  the  ears  of 
the  band  of  murderers  at  the  council  fire,  who,  hastily 
putting  the  slightly  wounded  old  sinner,  Schonchin, 
on  "  Joe  Lane,"  while  the  blood-stained  uniform  of 
Gen.  Canby  and  the  gray  suit  of  the  doctor,  together 
with  Meacham's  clothes,  are  lashed  on  Dyer's  horse, 
turn  away,  leaving  Boston  behind,  who  grasps  the 
rein  of  Tobey's  horse.  She  shouts  to  Jack,  who  turns 
and  orders  Boston  to  leave  him. 

Jack  and  his  party  scamper  over  the  rocks,  looking 
back,  expecting  to  hear  the  guns  of  the  white  soldiers 
who  are  coming  to  the  rescue. 

Tobey  again  wipes  the  blood  from  the  face  of  her 
benefactor,  and,  stoopii^g  down,  places  her  hand  over 
his  heart.  "  It  stop!  It  stop!  "  she  cries.  "With  her 
finger  she  opens  his  eyes.  They  do  not  see  her. 
They  are  overflowing  with  blood  from  the  wound  in 
his  face  and  on  his  head.  Again  with  her  dress  she 
wipes  the  blood  from  his  face.  She  straightens  his 
limbs  and  body.  Then,  standing  alone  a  moment, 
with  three  dead  men  in  sight,  she  sorrowfully  mounts 
her  horse  and  starts  for  the  soldiers'  camp. 

While  this  scene  of  terror  is  being  enacted  at  the 
council  tent,  another,  a  little  less  bloody,  is  in  progi'ess 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Modoc  stronghold,  the 
plans  for  which  have  been  mentioned.  Curly-haired 
Jack  (Cum-ba-twas)  and  Curly-haired  Doctor  have 
gone  out  towards  Col.  Mason's  camp,  with  a  flag  of 
truce,  to  decoy  the  "Little  Tyee"  (Col.  Mason)  among 
the  rocks.  But  he  is  an  old  Indian  fighter,  and  can- 
not be  caught  by  such  devices. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


501 


Maj.  Boyle  is  there,  and,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  on  the  day  before  Meacham  had  told  him  of  the 
threatened  treachery,  he  proposes  to  Lieut.  Sherwood 
to  go  out  and  meet  the  flag  of  truce.  The  major  was 
Indian  agent  at  Umatilla,  and  had  been  successful  in 
managing  peaceable  Indians.  He  had  been  with  Gen. 
Crook  in  Arizona,  also;  and,  having  confidence  in  his 
sagacity  to  manage  still,  he  volunteered  to  go  now. 

Having  obtained  the  consent  of  Col.  Mason,  they 
leave  the  picket-line  behind  them  and  the  guard  of  the 
day  on  the  lookout.  They  go  cautiously,  and,  when 
within  hailing  distance,  the  Modocs,  under  cover  of 
the  flag  of  truce,  ask  for  the  "Little  Tyee." 

"  He  will  not  come,"  replies  Boyle.  The  quick  eye 
of  the  major  catches  sight  of  a  musket  behind  the 
flag  of  truce.  He  turns  and  flees,  calling  on  Sher- 
wood to  "KunI  run  for  your  life!  " 

They  run.  But  see!  Sherwood  falls!  A  bullet 
from  the  musket  of  Curly-haired  Jack  has  broken 
his  thigh.  The  guard  rush  to  the  rescue.  The  Mo- 
docs fire  a  volley,  and  then  flee  to  their  stronghold, 
pursued  by  the  guard.  The  signal-station  at  Mason's 
camp  says,  "  Boyle  and  Sherwood  attacked,  under  a 
flag  of  truce."  Capt.  Adams,  of  the  signal  corps,  on 
the  blufi'  above  Gilliam's  camp,  receives  and  dictates 
it  to  his  secretary,  who,  after  writing,  sends  it  to  Gen. 
Gilliam,  in  the  camp,  one  hundred  yards  below  The 
general  reads  the  dispatch,  and  calls  for  Dr.  Cabanis 
to  come  in,  while  he  writes  a  message  to  send  by  the 
doctor,  informing  the  commissioners  of  the  attack  on 
Mason's  men.  The  general  has  written  but  a  line, 
when  Maj.  Biddle,  who  has  the  other  glass  at  the 
signal  station,  shoui^,^^  Firing  on  the  commissioners  I  ^'' 


i 


502 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


The  officers  order  the  men  to  "  Fall  in !  "  Soon  the 
bugle  repeats  the  assembly  call.  The  men  spring  to 
their  arms,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  five  hundred 
men  are  ready  to  rush  to  the  rescue.  Each  company 
forms  in  line  in  the  order  in  which  they  arc  encamped, 
—  Col.  Miller's  company  occupying  the  left  front, 
Lieut.  Eagan's  next  on  the  left,  and  Maj.  Throckmor- 
ton taking  his  position  behind  Eagan's  company;  the 
cavalry  companies  are  on  the  right. 

Gen.  Gilliam  is  astounded,  petrified.  He  hesitates; 
he  does  not  give  the  order  to  march ;  he  seems  bewil- 
dered. Maj.  Biddle  rushes  down  from  the  signal 
station  and  cries,  "I  saw  Canby  fall."  The  mon  are 
frantic.  They  do  not  understand  the  delay.  The 
ofiicers  swear,  and  threaten  to  move  without  orders. 

Gen.  Gilliam  now  awakes  from  his  lethargy,  and 
gives  the  order,  "March,  and  deploy  from  the  left  in 
skirmish  line  I " 
.  ^^  Forward  I"  shouts  Col.  Miller. 

"Forward I"  rings  out  along  the  lines,  while  Maj. 
Biddle's  bugle  sounds  "Forward!"  Maj.  Thomas  is 
ordered  to  remain  with  his  battery  and  guard  the 
camp. 

Now  that  the  order  to  march  is  given,  the  men  go 
flying  towards  the  scene  of  blood  in  skirmish  line. 
Behind  the  army  are  the  surgeons  with  the  stretchers. 

The  newspaper  reporters  are  there,  also,  and  fore- 
most among  them  "  Bill  Dad "  of  the  "  Sacramento 
Eecord."  While  waiting  for  orders  Bill  Dad  says  to 
a  citizen,  "  I  will  give  you  fifty  dollars  to  carry  my 
message  to  Yreka  ahead  of  all  others.  Yes,  seveniy- 
fivel" 

"All  right,"  responds  the  man,  anxious  to  make 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


603 


money  out  of  the  occasion.  Other  reporters  engage 
couriers. 

Col.  Miller  nears  the  council  tent,  urging  his  men 
on.  He  is  behind  them,  pushing  them  forward,  ex- 
pecting every  moment  to  see  a  Modoc  blaze  of  lire  in 
front.  They  soon  after  meet  Dyer,  who,  breathless, 
says,  "  They  are  all  killed  but  me."  Soon  after  they 
discover  Riddle,  who  cries,  hurriedly,  "They  arc 
all  killed."  But  now  they  meet  Tobey,  who  sobs, 
"  Canhy,  Thomas^  Meacham,  all  '  kill.' " 

Thirty  minutes  have  passed,  and  Meacham  is  strug- 
gling to  get  upon  his  feet.  He  hears  a  voice.  "  Up, 
on  the  leftl  Forward,  my  boys  I  "  Faintly  the  sound 
reaches  his  ears.    "Steady,  right  1     Up  I  up  on  the 

left,  you  d d  scoundrels  I "    Distinctly  and  clearly 

he  hears  the  words,  "Stea4y,  right  1  Guide,  centre!" 
Then  the  sound  of  men's  feet  on  the  rocks  mingles 
with  the  words  of  command.  The  men  near  the 
centre  level  their  guns. 

"  That's  an  Indian,"  says  one  of  the  men. 

"Don't  shoot,  he's  a  white  man  I"  shouts  Col. 
Miller. 

The  line  passes  over  the  wounded  man  still  in  skir- 
mish order,  as  they  expect  a  Modoc  volley.  As  they 
pass,  Dr.  Cabanis  comes  up  and  says,  "Bring  a 
stretcher  here.     Take  Meacham.     He's  not  dead." 

"  I  am  dead  I  I  am  dead  I  "  murmurs  the  wounded 
man. 

The  soldiers  lift  the  mutilated  body  on  a  stretcher. 

"Water I  water!  give  me  water!"  moans  the 
wounded  man. 

The  doctor  puts  a  canteen  of  brandy  to  his  lips. 
The  lips  refuse. 


ii 


lit 


504 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


"  /  can't  drink  brandy,  I  am  a  temperance  man," 
says  Meacham. 

"Stop  your  nonsense,  ^o  time  for  temperance 
talk  now.  Down  with  it  I  down  wi'.h  it!"  cries  the 
doctor. 

"Am  I  mortally  wounded,  doctor?"  asked  Meach- 
am. The  surgeon  hastily  thrusts  his  finger  into 
the  several  wounds  and  replies,  "  Not  unless  you  are 
wounded  internally." 

"I  am  shot  through  the  left  shoulder,"  said  the 
wounded  man. 

"Now,  boys,  for  the  hospital  I  Quick!  Lose  no 
time,  and  wc  will  save  him,"  cries  the  doctor. 

"  I  hit  Schonchin  in  the  right  side.  He  fell  over 
just  in  front  of  me,"  says  the  man  on  the  stretcher. 

"Never  mind  Schonchin,"  says  the  doctor.  "We'll 
look  out  for  him.  Here,  take  some  more  brandy. 
Now,  boys,  quick!  He'll  stand  it  until  you  reach 
the  hospital." 

Four  pairs  jf  strong  hands  grasp  the  handles  of 
the  stretchers,  and  four  other  pairs  cany  the  arms, 
and  walk  beside  to  relieve  the  carriers.  A  soldier 
covers  the  man  with  his  coat  as  they  hurry  along. 
Listen,  liow^  to  the  sad  wail  of  young  Scot<",  Canby's 
orderly,  who  was  with  him  through  the  war  of  the 
Rebellion.  When  he  reaches  the  body  of  his  beloved 
general,  who  was  more  than  a  father  to  him,  he 
throws  himself  on  the  prostraic  form,  and,  frantic 
with  grief,  ravefj  like  a  madman.  "  Bill  Dad  "  and  a 
soldier  lift  him  up  and  cover  the  body  with  their 
coats. 

Men  ^vith  stretchers  comv3  up,  and,  while  they  lift 
the  general.  Bill  Dad  cuts  the  side  of  the  council  tent 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


505 


out  and  covers  him  over.  Strange  that  this  council 
tent  should  become  Gen.  Canby's  winding-sheet  I  The 
body  of  Dr.  Thomas  is  also  placed  on  a  stretcher, 
and  it,  too,  is  covered  with  a  part  of  the  tent.  It  is 
his  winding-sheet,  also. 

While  these  affairs  are  taking  place  at  the  scene  of 
the  terrible  tragedy,  the  quartermaster,  at  the  camp, 
is  putting  the  hospital  in  order  for  the  reception  of 
patients,  ordering  cooks  to  prepare  food  for  the  men, 
packing  mules  with  supplies,  stretchers,  water-casks, 
an^i  such  other  things  as  are  necessary  for  the  men 
while  fighting,  never  doubting  but  that  they  will  be 
ueeded.  The  animals  are  ready  and  waiting  for 
orders  from  the  general  commanding. 

But  lo!  behold!  The  glistening  bayouv^ts  above 
the  rocks  come  nearer  I  The  army  of  five  hundred 
men  are  returning  to  camjp  "Why  is  this?"  ask  the 
men.  "  Why  did  we  not  follow  the  murderers  to  their 
den?"  demand  the  ofiicers. 

"  We  shall  not  be  ready  to  attack  them  until  the 
Warm  Spring  Indians  come,"  replies  tiie  general,  who 
a  few  days  since  thought  "  he  could  take  the  Modocs 
out  with  the  loss  of  half-a-dozen  men."  Why  did 
not  Col.  Mason  follow  up  the  Modocs  who  attacked 
Sherwood  and  Boyle?  Because  he  could  not  move 
without  orders,  and  the  orders  were  not  given. 

Three  or  foiu'  horsemen  are  waiting  while  a  dozen 
pencils  are  rattling  over  paper.  The  burden  of  each 
despatch  is  the  assassination.  "Modoc  treachei'yl 
Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  killed;  Meacham  mor- 
laMy  wounded;  Dyer  and  Riddle  escape."  How 
much  these  hasty  lines  will  tell,  and  how  many  hearts 
will  feel  a  dark  shadow  fall  over  them  when  the 


50G 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


{! 


electric  tongue  of  fire  repeats  this  message  to  the 
world  I 

"  Fifty  dollars  extra,  if  you  get  my  despatch  into 
the  telegraph  office  ahead  of  the  others,"  says  Bill 
Dad,  as  he  hands  the  paper  to  his  courier.  Away 
goes  the  courier  up  the  steep  and  rugged  bluff. 

"  One  hundred  dollars  if  you  get  to  the  office  in 
Y-re-ka,  first,"  says  another  reporter,  in  a  whisper,  to 
his  courier,  who  dashes  off  close  behind  the  first. 

Another  rider  is  mounted  and  waiting  for  the  word 
to  start.  Gen.  Gilliam's  adjutant  hands  this  man  a 
sealed  envelope.  It  contains  an  official  telegram  for 
the  authorities. 

"  Lose  no  time !  Off  with  you  I  "  says  Adjutant 
Rockwell.  And  now  three  riders  are  urging  their 
horses  up  the  hill.  Y-re-ka  is  eighty-three  miles  dis- 
tant. A  long  race  is  before  them.  The  evening  is 
dark  and  gloomy,  but  the  clouds  pass  away,  and  the 
moon  shines  on  three  men  galloping  together,  mile 
after  mile.  Sunrise  finds  two  of  them  still  together. 
One  of  them,  as  they  near  a  ranch,  swings  his  hat  and 
shouts.  A  man  in  shirt-sleeves  runs  to  a  stable  and 
brings  a  fresh  horse  to  the  man  who  signalled  him. 
The  rider  dismounts,  and,  while  changing  the  saddle 
from  his  horse  to  the  fresh  one,  tells  the  awful  tidings. 
The  other  rider  urges  his  horse  on,  on,  for  he,  too,  has 
a  fresh  horse  but  a  few  miles  ahead.  On  he  goes,  and 
looking  behind  him  sees  his  rival  coming.  He  comes 
up  and  passes,  saying,  "  Good-by,  George  I  " 

Twenty  minutes  more  and  both  are  mounted  on 
fresh  horses,  one  leading,  but  now  in  sight  of  each 
other.  One  is  casting  an  eye  backwards  over  his 
she  ilderj  the  other  is  pressing  the  sides  of  his  horse. 


WIGWAM   AND  WAEPATH. 


507 


The  gap  closes  up.  Y-re-ka  is  now  in  sight,  and  they 
are  galloping  side  by  side.  Both  are  sitting  erect, 
and  the  music  of  jingling  spurs  is  in  harmony  with 
the  stride  of  the  horses.  One  mile  more,  and  some- 
body wins.  It  all  depends  on  "  bottom."  The  spurs 
cease  to  jingle.  They  are  muffled  in  the  bleeding 
sides  of  the  panting  horses. 

What  a  race!  One  is  an  iron-gray,  the  other  a 
Pinto  horse.  The  rider  of  the  gray,  reaching  back 
with  his  spurs,  rakes  his  horse  from  the  flank  forward, 
leaving  a  vermilion  trail  where  the  spurs  have  j)assed. 
With  extended  head  and  neck,  and  lengthened  stride, 
he  goes  ahead  a  few  yards.  With  anotlier  application 
of  spurs,  the  switch  of  the  horse's  tail  touches  his 
rider's  back. 

"Ah,  ha  I  I've  got  you  now !  "  shouts  the  rider  of 
the  Pinto,  as  he  comes  up  like  the  moving  of  a  shad- 
ow, and  leaves  the  gray  and  his  rider  behind.  One 
hour  more,  and  the  lightnings  of  the  heavens  are  re- 
peating the  messages,  and  sending  them  over  moun- 
tains and  plains,  to  almost  the  farthest  ends  of  the 
earth. 


Klllli 


CHAPTER     XXXI. 

HARNESSED  LIGHTNING  CARRYING  AWFUL  TIDINGS  —  HE 
"MAKES  IT"  — A  BROKEN  FINGER  WON'T  DISFIGURE  A 
CORPSE. 

It  is  night,  and  in  the  soldiers'  camp  a  wail  of  an- 
guish is  heard  coming  from  the  tent  nearest  Gen. 
Canby's  late  quarters.  Grief  weighs  down  the  heart 
of  Orderly  Scott,  who  is  giving  vent  to  his  anguish  in 
stifled  sobs  and  vows  of  vengeance  on  the  perpetrators 
of  the  foul  deed.  He  rises  from  his  bed,  and,  with 
face  half  buried  in  his  hands,  looks  again  on  the  man- 
gled form  of  his  benefactor,  and,  in  renewed  paroxysms 
of  grief,  is  borne  away  by  his  friends. 

The  sound  of  hammer  and  saw  disturbs  the  mid- 
night hour,  while  the  carpenters  are  transforming  the 
wooden  gun-cases  into  coffins  for  the  dead.  Two  are 
in  progress,  but  the  mechanics  are  econonizing  the 
rough  boards,  for  the  probabilities  are  that  the  tliird 
will  be  needed  on  the  morrow. 

The  steward  is  holding  a  lamp  while  Drs.  Semig 
and  Cabanis  are  di-essing  the  wounds  of  the  only 
patient  in  the  hospital  tent.  He  is  unconscious,  while 
the  ugly,  ragged  wound  in  his  face  is  being  carefully 
bound,  and  the  long  crooked  cut  on  the  left  side  of  the 
head  is  being  closed  with  the  silver  threads,  and  his  ear 
is  being  stitched  together.  He  flinches  a  little  when  the 
flexible  silver  probe  is  following  the  trail  cut  through 
his  right .  arm  made  by  the  pistol  ball  that  struck  it 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


509 


outside  of  the  wrist,  and,  passing  between  the  bones  of 
the  fore  arms,  came  out  on  the  inside,  midway  between 
the  hand  and  elbow.  The  left  hand  is  laid  out  on  a 
board,  and  the  -VNOunded  man  is  told  that  "the  fore- 
finger must  come  off." 

"  Make  out  the  line  of  the  cut,  doctor,"  says 
Meacham. 

"  There,  about  this  way,"  the  doctor  replies,  while 
with  his  scalpel  he  traces  a  cut  nearly  to  the  wrist. 

"  I  can't  hold  still  while  you  do  that,  without  chlo- 
roform," says  Meacham. 

The  doctor  feels  his  pulse,  and  says,  "  You  have 
lost  too  much  blood  to  take  chloroform." 

"Then  let  it  stay  until  I  am  stronger,"  rejoins 
Meacham. 

For  once  doctors  agree,  one  of  them  saying,  "The 
finger  would  not  disfigure  a  corjDse  very  much." 

"Please  ask  Gen.  Gilliam  to  send  to  Linkville  for 
my  wife's  brother,  Capt.  Ferree,"  conies  from  the 
bloodless  lips  of  the  wounded  man. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  replies  the  kind-hearted  doctor, 
"  the  general  sent  a  courier  for  him  hours  ago." 

This  thoughtful  act  of  kindness,  on  the  part  of  Gen. 
Gilliam,  has  touched  the  heart  of  the  sufferer.  When 
he  awakes  again  Capt.  Ferree  was  bending  over  him 
and  remarking,  "He  will  be  blind  if  he  recovers, 
won't  he,  doctor?  " 

"  He  won't  be  very  handsome,  that's  a  fact,"  says 
the  nurse. 

In  the  Modoc  camp,  when  the  murderous  bands 
u"rive  w4th  their  scanty  plunder,  a  general  quarrel 
cv-  K  .,  and  bitter  reproaches  are  heard  against  Hook- 
er Jiin  for  not  securing  Mr.  Dyer,  and  against  Curly 


510 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Jack  and  Curly-haired  Doctor,  for  the  escape  of  Maj. 
Boyle,  and  on  account  of  the  clothing  taken  from  the 
murdered  men.  Captain  Jack  claims  the  uniform  of 
Gen.  Canby.  Bogus  and  Boston  divide  the  clothing 
taken  from  Dr.  Thomas,  and  Shacknasty  Jim,  Hooker 
Jim  and  old  Schonchin  are  awarded  the  clothing  and 
effects  of  Meacham. 

Preparations  are  making  for  defence,  as  the  Indians 
do  not  doubt  that  an  attack  will  be  made  immediately. 
Many  bitter  recriminations  are  uttered;  but  it  is  war, 
war  to  the  last  man  I  They  hush  all  their  quarrels  in 
the  necessity  for  united  action.  They  jjledge  them- 
selves to  fight  until  the  last  man  is  dead.  The  Cur- 
ly-haired Doctor  calls  his  assistants  around  him  and 
begins  the  Great  Medicine  Dance,  All  night  long 
the  sound  of  drum  and  song  is  heard.  The  Modocs 
expect  every  moment  to  hear  the  signal  of  their  sen- 
tinel on  the  outposts  annoiuicing  the  "  soldiers  I  "  No 
sleep  comes  to  this  camp  to  night. 

The  morning  comes,  but  no  blue-coats  are  seen 
among  the  rocks.  The  army  of  one  thousand  men 
are  not  ready  yet. 

The  Modocs  exult;  they  are  jubilant;  they  have 
scared  the  Government.  "  It  is  afraid.  It  will  grant 
us,  710W,  all  we  ask."  Captain  Jack  and  Scar-face 
Charley  do  not  assent  to  this  unreasonable  view  of 
the  situation. 

"  The  soldiers  will  come.  Our  victory  is  not  com- 
plete. We  must  fight  now  until  all  are  dead.  The 
Modoc  heart  says  ^We  must  fight!'"  Captain  Jack 
affirms. 

Saturday  morning,  April  13th,  finds  the  three  camps 
side  by  side,  and  each  on  the  lookout  for  an  attack. 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATU. 


511 


Strong  hands  are  bearing  two  rough-looking  boxes 
up  the  steep  bluff.  In  the  foremost  one  is  the  body  of 
Gen.  Canby;  in  the  other,  all  that  is  mortal  of  Dr. 
Thomas.  Slowly  they  mount  the  rugged  hill.  They 
reach  the  waiting  ambulances.  The  bodies  are  each 
assigned  an  escort.  Sitting  beside  Gen.  Canby's  coffin 
are  his  adjutant,  Anderson,  and  tliC  faithful  Scott. 

How  changed  the  scene  I  a  few  hours  since  all  were 
hopeful.  Now,  all  are  in  despair,  crushed  under  the 
affliction  of  the  hour.  While  they  move  cautiously 
under  escort,  the  terrible  news  is  flashing  along  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  telegraph  lines,  over  mountains,  under 
rivers  and  oceans.  Before  the  sun  sets  the  hearts  of 
millions  of  people  are  beating  in  sympathy  with  the 
bereaved.  Extras  and  bulletins  are  flying  from  a 
thousand  presses.  The  newsboys  of  America  are 
shouting  the  burden  of  the  terrible  telegram.  The 
Inaians  along  a  thousand  miles  of  the  frontier  have 
already  learned  that  something  of  dreadful  import  has 
happened. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  of  this  day  a 
woman  sitting  in  her  room  on  State  street,  Salem, 
Oregon,  raises  her  eyes,  turning  them  towards  the 
street.  Perhaps  the  sound  of  steps  on  the  wooden 
pavement  attracts  her  attention.  She  sees  two  famil- 
iar faces  turned  towards  her  window.  "Oh,  see  her  I 
How  pale  she  is  I "  She  drops  her  work,  and  runs 
hastily  to  meet  the  two  gentlemen. 

"Is  he  dead?  Is  he  dead?  Tell  me!  Has  my 
husband  been  killed  by  the  Modocs?"  the  woman  cries. 

The  gentlemen  are  speechless  for  the  moment,  while 
the  lady  pleads.  They  dare  not  speak  the  truth  too 
plainly,  now;  she  cannot  bear  it. 


€??■ 


, 


512 


WIGAVAM  AND   WARPATH. 


1  ! 


i  III 


One  of  them  replies,  "  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas 
have  been  killed  by  the  Modocs,  and  Mr.  Meacham  is 
sli —  "  "  mortally  wounded  I "  shrieks  the  lady  sinking 
to  the  floor. 

Three  young  persons  are  coming  home.  The  eldest 
is  a  young  lady  of  eighteen.  The  lad  that  walks  be- 
side her  is  her  brother  of  sixteen ;  and  the  other  is  an 
auburn-haired  girl  of  fourteen.  There  is  something 
in  her  appearance  that  connects  our  thoughts  with  the 
mutilated,  almost  bloodless  man  who  is  lying  in  the 
hospital  in  the  Lava  Beds. 

They  turn  the  corner  leading  out  of  the  Plaza 
and  in  sight  of  home.  They  see  men  and  women  hur- 
rying across  the  front  yard. 

"Has  father  been  killed  by  the  Modocs?"  bursts 
from  their  lips  as  they  fly. 

Dr.  Hall  meets  them  and  says,  "Your  father  is 
slightly  wounded.     He  is  not  dead." 

The  three  frightened  children  gather  around  the 
tearless,  pale-faced  mother,  who  says,  "  Don't  deceive 
me.  I  am  strong  now.  I  tan  bear  it.  Tell  me  the 
worst." 

The  friends  exchanged  glances.  Dr.  Hall  shakes 
his  head,  slightly  motioning  towards  the  elder  girl, 
whose  face  is  buried  in  the  bosom  of  Mrs.  Dr.  Smith. 
"  George,  run  to  the  telegraph  office  and  bring  the 
despatch,"  says  the  mother  to  her  son.  "  I  must  know 
the  truth." 

The  boy  bounds  away  towards  the  office,  and  is  met 
by  Prof.  Powell,  who  says,  "Come  back,  George.  I 
will  go  home  with  you,  and  tell  your  mother  all  about 
it." 

The  two   return,  nnd  the  professor,  with  faltering 


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WiaWAM   AND  WARPATn. 


513 


voice  reads  the  despatch:  "Canby  and  Thomas  killed. 
Mcttcham  mortally  wouudcd."  The  marble-faced  wife 
arises,  sayin<^,  '*I  am  going  to  my  hiiKbaiid."  Ilcr 
friends  remonstrate  wlih  her. 

"  I  am  going  to  my  husband.  Do  not  hinder  me," 
she  repeats. 

"My  i'atherl  my  father  I  "  cries  the  elder  daughter, 
as  she  is  borne  to  her  room. 

"  My  father  will  not  die.  ITe  must  not  die.  My 
father  will  Ihe"  the  younger  daughter  insists.  Her 
brother  is  trying  to  hide  his  tears  while  he  talks 
hopefully. 

"  Father  is  a  very  strong  man.  lie  may  get  well. 
I  think  he  will,"  he  says. 

It  is  midnight,  and  sympathizing  friends  are  in  the 
sitting-room  and  parlor.  The  daughters  and  son 
have  sobbed  themselves  to  sleep.  The  mother  and 
wife,  with  bloodless  face,  is  on  bended  knees,  and,  with 
uplifted  hands  clasped,  is  whispering  a  prayer. 

At  this  moment  her  brothei*  is  bending  over  her 
husband  three  hundred  miles  away,  watching  his 
breathing;  while  thoughts  of  a  widowed  sister  and 
her  oi'plian  children  sadden  the  heart  of  the  veteran 
who  has  passed  through  the  war  of  the  Great  Rebel- 
lion. A  silent  tear  drops  on  the  mangled  face 
beneath  him. 

Donald  McKay,  "  the  scout,"  with  seventy-two 
picked  men,  is  dismounting  at  Col.  Mason's  camp. 
Jjcaving  them,  he  is  challenged  by  the  picket  guard 
and,  passing  in,  reports  himself  to  the  officer  of  the 
day. 

His  men  stand  waiting  his  return.  Meanwhile  we 
will  go  close   enough  to   inspect   them.     They  are 


514 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Ill' 


1 1' 


f  ' 


ill 


dressed  in  the  uniform  of  the  soldiers  oi  the  United 
States.  Their  arms  are  the  same,  and  in  the  moon- 
light they  appf'ar  to  be  "Regulars."  If  the  womided 
man  in  the  hospital  were  here  they  would  salute 
him  with,  "Tuts-ka-low-a?"  ("How  do  you  do,  old 
man  Meacham?  ")  And  he  would  reply,  "Te-me-na, 
Shix-te-wa-tillieums."     ("  My  heart  is  all  right.") 

These  boys  are  Warm  Spring  Indians,  and  the  same 
men  who  were  in  the  council  tents  in  185o,  \^  hen  the 
Government  swindled  them  and  their  fathers  out  of 
their  homes  in  the  beautiful  "  Valley  of  the  Tygh." 
They  were  also  in  the  revival  meeting  at  the  Warm 
Springs  Agency  in  1871^  when  the  Superintendent 
of  Indian  Aifairs,  who  now  lies  in  yonder  hospital, 
ar  J.  Agent  John  Smith,  took  so  many  red  hands  in 
their  own  and  recognized  a  brotherhood  with  them. 
They  are  the  same  men,  too,  who  have  for  years  past, 
each  Sunday  morning,  joined  their  beloved  agent  in 
prayer  and  song.  Th'  have  left  behind  them  hum- 
ble homes,  in  a  poor  country,  where  the  Government 
placed  them,  and  where  it  still  keeps  them  by  the 
strong  arm  of  the  law,  without  consulting  their  wishes, 
—  a  home  they  cannot  leave,  even  for  a  day,  without  a 
"  pass."  Their  manhood  was  acknowledged  in  mak- 
ing a  treaty;  but  denied  as  soon  as  the  compact  was 
completed,  until  in  186G,  Avhen  the  Government  found 
it  had  an  e.:pensive  war  on  hand  with  the  Snake  In- 
dians, and  then  it  offered  these  men  the  privilege  of 
volunteering  to  whip  the  Snake  Indians.  This  oflfer 
they  accepted,  and  were  rewarded  for  their  services 
with  a  few  greenbacks,  worth  fifty  cents  on  a  dollar, 
and  an  invitation  to  a  new  treaty  counci. ,  in  which 
they  were  cheated  out  of  a  reserved  right  i  ^  the  fish- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


515 


nited 

noon- 

raded 

salute 

Lo,  old 

ne-na, 

■") 

e  same 
len  the 
out  of 
Tygh." 
■\Varm 
tendent 
lospital, 
ands  in 
h  them. 
ars  past, 
\oent  in 
■m  hum- 
ernment 
by  the 
wishes, 
vithout  a 
in  mali- 
pact  was 
nt  found 
nakc  In- 
vilege  of 
This  offer 
services 
a  dollar, 
in  which 
>  the  fish- 


eries on  the  Columbia  river,  near  "  The  Dalles ; "  and 
then  they  were  summoned  back  to  their  unsought 
homes,  subject  to  the  whims  and  caprices  of  Govern- 
ment officers,  who  were  given  positions  as  a  reward 
for  political  services.  True,  they  agreed  to  the  terms, 
and  they  must  be  made  to  stand  by  them  whether 
their  pledges  were  made  freely  and  voluntarily,  or 
imder  the  shining  bayonets  of  an  army,  and  by  reason 
of  the  superior  diplomatic  talent  of  the  Government 
officials  who  outwitted  them.  It  makes  no  diller- 
ence.  They  are  Indians,  and  three-fourths  of  the 
people  of  the  United  States  lelieve  and  say  that 
"the  best  Indians  are  all  under  ground." 

Anxious  to  demonstrate  their  loyalty  to  a  Govern- 
ment that  has  been  so  good  to  them,  and  to  establish 
their  right  to  manhood's  privileges,  when  an  oppor- 
tunity offered,  they  enlisted  by  the  advice  and  consent 
of  their  agent,  and,  followed  by  his  prayers,  they  are 
here  to  night  under  the  famous  scout,  Donald  McKay. 

He  evidently  is  not  a  "  "Warm  Spring  Indian,"  yet 
they  trust  him,  knowing,  from  their  expei-ience  with 
him  in  the  Snake  campaign  of  18GG,  that  he  is  thor- 
oughly reliable.  Donald  McKay  is  half  brother  to 
Dr.  Wm.  C.  McKay.  Ilis  mother  was  a  Cay  use  wo- 
man. Being  a  man  of  extraordinary  endowments, 
which  fit  him  for  a  leader,  he  has  taken  an  active  part 
in  all  recent  Indian  wars  of  the  Xorthwest.  His 
name  alone  carries  a  warning  to  refractory  "  red-siiins.*' 

As  Donald  approached  his  men  on  his  return  from 
head-quarters,  several  voices  inquire  if  "old  man 
Meacham  is  dead."  Quietly  leading  their  horses  in- 
side the  picket  line,  they  unpack  the  kitchen,  mule 
and  blanket  ponies. 


'        iih< 


516 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


jlllh 


It  is  now  Sunday  morning,  the  13th  of  April.  The 
sun  finds  couriers  on  the  road  to  Y-re-ka,  bearing  de- 
spatches announcing  that  "  Meacham  is  sinking.  The 
surgeons  have  extracted  four  bullets  from  his  wounds. 
The  Modocs  cannot  got  away." 

A  sad,  anxious  woman  is  leaving  the  depot  at 
Salem,  Oregon,  destined  for  the  Lava  Beds.  At 
home  her  children  are  in  tears,  realizing  how  dark 
the  clouds  of  sorrow  may  become. 

The  childless  widow  of  Gon.  Canby  sits  with 
hroTcen  heart,  in  her  parlor  in  Portland,  Oregon. 

The  family  of  Dr.  Thomas,  in  Petaluma,  Cal.,  are 
kneeling  around  the  family  altar,  and  a  bereaved  widow 
is  praying  for  resignation  to  this  dispensation  of 
Providence,  —  is  praying  for  strengtii  to  say  "Thy 
will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven." 

Monday  morning,  April  14th,  opens  amid  the  noises 
of  eamfj  life  ;  the  drum  and  bugle  calls,  and  human 
voices  join  in  songs  of  praise.  They  are  strange 
sounds  for  a  military  camp  on  the  eve  of  battle. 
There  is  an  uncommon  accent  to  them,  but  they  sound 
familiar.  What  !  The  sounds  come  from  the  lips  of 
men  who  were  born  in  wild  camj^s  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Eastern  Oregon.  Can  it  be  that  these  red 
men  have  so  far  advanced  in  Christian  civilization  that 
they  are  now  doing  what  not  one  of  the  five  hundred 
white  men  have  the  courage  to  do  ?  Yes,  my  reader, 
it  is  true  that  the  Warm  Spring  Indians,  who  havo 
learned  from  Agent  John  Smith  these  songs  of 
praise  and  the  honor  that  is  due  to  God,  are  faith- 
ful to  their  pretensions,  and  are  worsliipping  Ilim, 
und  seeking  strength  to  sustain  them  in  the  coming 
'itrife. 


WIGWAM  A.-.'JD  WARPATH. 


517 


Blush,  now,  will  you  not,  you  who  prate  so  loudly 
of  the  superiority  of  the  white  men !  ol  his  sense  of 
right  controlling  his  actions  I  Here  are  red  men,  who 
are  but  a  few  years  removed  from  savage  life,  lio'mg 
the  ^^new  religion"' — Christians  in  real  earnest,  and 
shaming  the  hypocritical  pretenders  whose  cant  and 
whine  make  liberal-minded  people  turn  away  in  dis- 
gust. You  Christian  Indian-hater,  look  at  these  red- 
skinned  people,  and  learn  a  lesson  m  Christian  honesty 
and  moral  courage  1 

The  shadows  of  Van  Bremers  mountain  come  slowly 
over  the  Lava  Beds.  In  the  Modoc  camp  the 
"medicine-man"  is  conducting  the  vrar-dance  and 
working  the  blood  of  Modoc  hearts  up  to  fighting 
heat.  He  promises  his  people  that  he  will  make  a 
medicine  that  w51]  turn  the  soldiers'  bullets  away.  He 
points  to  the  great  battle  of  January,  and  its  results, 
to  inspire  confidence  in  him.  The  chief  is  saddened, 
and  fully  realizes  the  situation.  He  is  desperate,  and 
is  resolved  to  fight  to  the  bitter  end.  He  has  already 
appointed  the  places  for  each  of  the  warriors.  He 
tells  his  people  that  the  hated  Warm  Spring  Indians 
are  now  in  the  soldiers'  camp.  He  reminds  them  that 
these  j)eople  are  their  enemies ;  that  it  was  the  Warm 
Spring  and  Tenino  Indians  who  killed  his  father.  He 
counsels  them  to  remember  his  father's  death.  He 
knows  that  a  thousand  white  soldiers  are  there  and 
that  the  "big  guns"  will  reach  his  stronghold. 

Some  of  his  followers  have  superstitious  faith 
enough  in  the  medicine-man  to  believe  that  they  will 
outlive  the  war,  and  to  believe  the  white  men  are 
conquered  already.     The  chief  knows  better. 

In  the  soldiers'  camp  preparations  are  making  for 


'   'e-lil 


?*i>   irt 


<  1^ 


i 


5ia 


T  IGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


the  assault.  The  Coehorn  shell-guns  are  made  ready 
for  putting  on  the  backs  of  mules.  Food  for  the  sol- 
diers has  been  prepared.  The  guard  is  stationed. 
The  soldiers  in  either  camp  well  understand  that  the 
morrow's  sun  will  witness  another  bloody  struggle. 
Those  of  them  who  were  in  former  battles  shrink  from 
this  one,  knowing  how  neuily  impregnable  ho 
"  stronghold  "  will  be. 

"  I  say,  old  man,  there  is  a  little  bit  of  fun  going  on. 
I  wish  you  could  be  up  to  see  it."  Thus  spoke  Capt. 
Ferree  to  Meacham,  and  continued,  "  You  know  Long 
Jim  —  a  Modoc  prisoner  —  is  under  guard.  Well,  the 
boys  are  going  to  give  him  a  chance  to  run  for  his  life 
without  the  knowledge  of  Gen.  Gilliam.  Thev  have 
everything  all  fixed,  and  I'll  bet  fifty  dollars  he  '  makes 
it!'  They  have  him  in  the  stone  corral,  and  the  plan 
is  to  station  the  boys  outside  next  to  the  Lava  Pjds 
and  leave  one  or  two  men  to  guard  him.  Thev  ,vill 
pretend  to  sleep,  and  Jim  will  jump  the  wall,  and  then 
the  boys  will  let  him  have  it.  Two  to  one  he  gets 
away!  I  thought  I  would  just  tell  you,  so  you 
wouldn't  get  scared  to  death,  thinking  the  Modocs 
were  attacking  the  camp." 

This  man.  Long  Jim,  had  pretended  to  desert  the 
Modoc  camp  during  the  peace  negotiations.  He  had 
a  bullet  extracted  from  his  back  while  in  the  commis- 
sioners' camp,  several  weeks  before.  He  was  after- 
wards caught  while  acting  as  an  emissary  to  other 
Indians,  and,  by  order  or  ^en.  CanbJ^  was  being  de- 
tained under  guard  as  a  prisoner.  Hence  his  pres- 
ence. He  stoutly  denied  having  any  desire  to  return 
to  Captain  Jack's  camp. 

The  officers  are  assembled  in  Col.  Green's  quarters. 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


519 


They  are  celebrating  a  half-solemn,  half-sentimental 
ceremony  that  is  sometimes  indulged  in  before  an 
engagement.  To  a  listener  who  lies  in  a  hospital  it 
sounds  somewhat  as  does  the  m.edioine  war-dance  in 
the  middle  camp.  Indeed,  its  results  are  the  same, 
although  the  design  is  different.  In  the  Modoc  camp, 
the  dance  and  medicine  are  for  the  purpose  of  invok- 
ing spiritual  aid  and  stimulating  the  nerves  of  the 
braves  to  heroic  deeds.  In  the  soldier  camp  the  in- 
tention is  to  celebrate  the  stirring  scenes  passed,  to 
exchange  friendship,  to  blot  out  all  the  personal  differ- 
ences that  exist,  and  pledge  fidelity  for  the  future. 

They  tell  stories  and  pass  jokes  and  witticisms 
until  a  late  hour.  Before  adjournment  they  join  in 
singing  a  song  that  is  sung  nowhere  else  and  by  no 
other  voices.  The  wounded  man  in  the  hospital  tent 
hears  only  the  refrain.  It  sounds  melancholy,  and 
has  a  saddening  effect. 

••  Then  stand  by  your  glasses  steady, 
This  world's  a  round  of  lies — 
Three  cheers  for  the  dead  already, 
And  hurrah  for  the  next  who  dies  "  — 

rings  out  from  the  lips  of  brave  men  who  dread  not 
the  strife  of  battle  under  ordinary  circumstances  ;  but 
to  meet  an  enemy  who  is  so  thoroughly  protected  by 
chasms  and  caverns  of  rock  does  not  promise  glory 
that  inflates  men's  courage  previous  to  battle. 

Col.  Tom  A^'^right  and  Lieut.  Eagan  drop  into  the 
hospital,  and,  sitting  down  beside  the  wounded  com- 
missioner, assure  him  that  they  will  remember  Canby 
and  Thomas,  and  will  avenge  his  own  sufferings. 
They  retire  with  expressions  of  hope  for  his  recovery. 
They  meet  Maj.  Thomas  and  Lieut.  Cranston  coming 


<u 


\^'~  '-'hm 


520 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


1' 


fe-tf- 


to  pay  a  visit.  Exchanges  of  sympathy  and  fiiend- 
Bhip  follow,  and  they  return  to  quarters  to  sleep  before 
the  battle,  leaving  behind  them  but  one  wounded  man. 
He  is  i^eering  into  the  future,  wondering  ivho  of  all 
the  five  hundred  men  and  oJEcers  will  be  hisj^rs^ 
neighhor. 

The  camp  is  quiet.  Midnight  has  passed.  The 
relief  guard  has  been  stationed.  In  the  corral  Long 
Jim  is  sleeping.  He  shows  no  sign  of  any  intention 
to  escape.  The  guard  is  discouraged.  The  boys  out- 
side are  impatient.  What  if  Jim  should  not  make  the 
attempt  ?  It  would  be  a  huge  joke  on  the  boys  who 
planned  this  little  side  scene.  Truth  is,  nearly  every- 
body who  is  in  the  secret  is  cursing  Jim  for  a  fool 
that  he  don't  try  to  escape.  A  consultation  is  held. 
Something  must  be  done.  "  I'll  fix  it,"  s-^ys  a  "  little 
corporal."  Going  to  the  corral  he  says,  ^  Don't  go  to 
sleep  and  let  the  prisoner  get  away."  Everything  be- 
comes quiet  and  the  two  guards  sit  down,  one  at  each 
side  of  the  corral. 

"  I'm  so  d — d  sleepy  I  can't  keep  awake,"  says  one 
to  the  other. 

"  Sleep,  then.  I  won't  say  a  word,"  rejoins  his  com- 
panion. "  He  can't  get  away  from  me.  He's  sleep- 
ing himself." 

The  first  speaker  soon  hangs  his  head  and  sleeps. 
Soon  the  other's  chin  restH  on  his  breast  and  he  be- 
gins to  sno'e.  Long  Jim  slowly  raises  his  head.  All 
is  quiet.  There  sit  the  two  guards,  sleeping.  One  is 
snoring.  Jim  listens.  His  love  for  his  own  piujplo 
and  for  liberty  burns  in  his  heart.  He  has  picked  up 
many  items  that  would  be  valuable.  He  knows  that 
the  attack  will  be  made  on  the  morrow.    His  friends 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


521 


must  be  notified.  lie  listens  a  moment,  and  then, 
cautiously  laying  aside  his  blanket,  he  stands  erect. 
One  of  the  guards  sits  in  the  gateway  of  the  corral. 
The  wall  around  him  is  higher  than  his  head,  lie 
cannot  see  over  it.  Laving  his  hands  on  the  stone 
wall  and  summoning  all  his  strength  he  sj)rmgs.  A 
blaze  at  either  end  of  the  corral,  then  bang  !  bang  I 
go  the  guns  outside  like  the  firing  of  a  string  of  China 
crackers,  only  louder.  Twenty  shots  are  fired,  and 
still  Jim  does  not  falL  He  reaches  the  outer  picket 
line.  Two  more  guns  are  fired  off^  lighting  up  the 
track  for  the  runiway,  and  still  he  flies.  The  boys 
reload  and  send  a  parting  volley  in  the  direction  Jim 
went. 

"-He  '  made  it ' ;  and  a  madder  set  of  fellows  you 
never  saw.  I  knew  they  couldn't  hit  him.  I've  tried 
that  thing,  and  it  can't  be  done."  I  need  not  tell  my 
readers  who  uttered  this  remark. 

You  may  suppose  that  this  little  episode,  "just  be- 
fore the  battle,"  roused  the  camp.  .N^o  such  thing  oc- 
curred. Gen.  Gilliam,  it  is  true,  jumped  to  his  feet, 
but  was  reassured  when  he  was  told  that  it  was 
nothing  —  only  Long  Jim  escaping. 

Before  daylight  this  distinguished  individual  was 
"  a-tellin'  the  Modocs  the  news,"  as  one  of  the  sleep- 
ing guard  declared.  So  he  was,  with  his  clothing 
[jjurced  by  half-a-dozen  bullets,  but  "with  nary  a 
wound." 


■  I  ? : 


,,;  '■'■ri:*a 


?u* 


•;?•  1 


'"^ISs 


it    " 
I  .... 


CHAPTEK    XXXII. 

HORIZONTAL  PYROTECHNICS  — THE  SCALP  MIRACLE— KILLED 
IN  PETTICOATS  — THE  PRESENTIMENT, 

It  is  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  the 
14th  of  April.  The  men  are  silently  falling  into  line. 
The  mules  aie  groaning  under  the  heavy  weight  of 
"  mounted  pieces,"  or  loaded  with  stretchers  and  other 
contrivances  for  carrying  the  dead  and  wounded.  The 
soldiers  do  not  seem  to  realize  that  some  of  their  num- 
ber will  return  on  these  mules,  wounded  and  helpless, 
or  dead.  Perhaps  each  one  thinks  and  hopes  that  it 
will  be  some  one  other  than  himself.  From  the  im- 
mense preparations  for  war  it  would  seem  that  Cap- 
tain Jack  and  his  followers  must  be  taken  in  a  few 
minutes.  One  thousand  men  and  seventy-two  Warm 
Spring  Indians  are  taking  position  around  the  ill- 
starred  chieftain's  fortress.  He  is  not  ignorant  of  their 
presence.  His  old  women  and  children  are  hidden 
away  in  the  caves  of  the  Lava  Beds.  The  young 
women  are  detailed  to  attend  the  warriors  with  water 
and  ammunition.  The  Modocs  are  better  armed  than 
during  the  last  battle.  Some  of  their  guns  were  cap- 
tured from  fallen  soldiers  on  the  17th  of  January.  A 
large  quantity  of  ammunition  that  was  taken  has 
been  changed  to  suit  the  old  rifles. 

The  men  are  at  the  stations  assigned  them.  They 
are  divested  of  all  unnecessary  clothing,  and  their 
limbs  are  bandaged  by  folds  of  rawhide.     They  are 


n 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATU. 


523 


awaiting  the  attack.  Each  warrior  holds  a  position 
made  impregnable  by  the  Ibniiation  of  the  rocks,  or 
the  condition  in  which  the  great  convulsions  of  nature 
which  produced  this  indescribable  country,  left  them. 

The  sun  is  driving  away  the  darltness,  and  soon 
the  br  ttle  must  begin. 

In  the  hospital  a  veteran  of  the  Second  Iowa  Cav- 
alry is  sitting  beside  the  wounded  man,  and  preparing 
him  for  the  shock  that  his  nerves  will  feel. 

"  Don't  get  scared,  old  man !  It  will  begin  very 
soon,  and  you  will  presently  have  company  enough," 
he  says. 

The  hospital  attendants  are  making  ready  to  care 
for  the  wounded.  Mattresses  are  placed  in  rows  on 
either  side.  In  a  small  tent,  near  by,  a  surgeon  is 
laying  out  lint  and  bandages. 

The  Iowa  veteran  is  standing  at  the  door,  saying 
to  Meacham,  "  I  will  tell  you  when  it  opens.  I  can 
see  the  fire,  before  you  will  hear  the  sound  and  feel 
the  jar.  Don't  get  frightened,  and  think  that  the 
mountain  is  coming  down  on  you,  old  man.  There 
goes  the  signal  rocket.    N^ow  look  out  I  " 

An  instant  more  and  the  shells  and  howitzers  join 
in  a  suTiultaneous  demand  for  the  Modoc  chief  to  sur- 
render. The  earth  trembles  while  the  reports  are 
reverberating  around  and  through  the  chasms  and 
caverns  of  the  Lava  Beds,  and  before  they  have  finally 
died  away,  or  the  trembling  has  ceased,  another  sound 
comes  in  a  continuous  roar,  proceeding  from  the  left, 
and  by  the  time  the  belt  of  fire  has  made  the  circuit, 
it  repeats  itself  again  and  again.  But  no  smoke  of 
rifles  is  seen  coming  from  the  stronghold.  "  Charge !  " 
rings  out  by  human  voice  and  bugle  blast,  and  a  re- 


¥, 


":'f'tnM 


'^•■^' 


■'Iff 


}l 


ill 


■ill 


524 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


turning  series  of  bayonets  converge.  On  they  go, 
nearing  a  common  centre.  IS^o  Modocs  are  yet  in 
bight.  The  soldiers,  now  upright,  are  hurrying  for- 
ward, when  suddenly,  from  a  covert  chasm  and  cav- 
ern, a  circle  of  smoke  bursts  forth.  The  Modocs 
have  opened  fire.  The  men  fall  on  the  right  and  left, 
around  the  circle.  "  Onward  I "  shout  the  officers. 
"Onward I"  But  the  men  arc  falling  fast.  The 
charge  must  be  abandoned.  The  bugle  sounds  "  Ke- 
treatl"  The  line  widens  again,  the  soldiers  bearing 
back  the  dead  and  wounded.  They  now  seek  cover 
among  the  rocks.  The  wounded  are  sent  to  the  hos- 
pital, by  way  of  the  lake,  in  boats  or  on  the  mule- 
stretchers.  The  battle  goes  on.  The  wounded  con- 
tinue to  arrive.  The  shadows  of  the  mountains  from 
the  west  cover  the  Lava  Beds,  and  still  the  fight  goes 
on.     A  volley  is  heard  near  the  hospital. 

"What's  that?"  asked  the  startled  patient. 

"  Burying  the  dead,"  quietly  responds  the  veteran 
nurse. 

A  few  minutes  pass,  and  another  volley  is  fired,  and 
another  soldier  is  being  laid  away  to  rest  forever. 
Still  another,  and  another  yet;  until  five  volleys  an- 
nounce that  five  of  the  boys  who  started  out  with 
United  States  rifles  in  the  morning  are  occupying  the 
narrow  homes  that  must  be  theirs  forever. 

At  irregular  intervals  during  the  night  the  fight  is 
continued.  The  Modocs  are  constantly  on  duty. 
The  soldiers  relieve  each  other,  and  are  in  fighting 
condition  when  Tuesday  morning  comes.  No  cessa- 
tion of  firing  through  the  day.  No  rest  for  the 
Modocs. 

One  of  the  camp  sutlers,  well  known  all  over  the 


WIOWAai  AND  WARPATU. 


525 


the 


West  as  a  game  fellow,  unable  to  restrain  his  love  for 
sport,  and  being  PAT-rlotie,  goes  to  quartermaster 
Grier  and  demands  a  breech-loader,  and  also  a  chnrr/er 
to  ride,  saying  he  wanted  to  do  sonu'thing  to  help 
whip  the  Modoes.  Mr.  Grier  informed  Pat  that  he 
could  not  issue  arms  without  an  order.  Pat  was  in- 
dignant, and  made  ,'ip[)Heation  sueeessfully  to  a  citizen 
for  the  necessary  outfit  for  war.  He  mounted  Col. 
Wright's  mule  and  repaired  to  the  scene  of  action. 

On  reaching  the  line  of  battle  he  looked  ai'ound  a 
few  minutes,  and,  to  a  word  of  caution  given  him  by 
an  officer,  replied,  "Divil  an  Indian  do  I  see.  I  came 
out  to  git  a  scalp,  and  I'm  not  goin'  home  without  it." 

The  officer  who  had  given  him  the  friendly  advice 
watched  the  bold  sutler  as  he  kept  on  his  way  with 
his  "  Henry,"  ready  to  pick  off  any  Modoe  Avho  might 
be  imprudent  enough  to  show  his  head.  The  soldiei's 
shout,  "Come  back!  come  back!"  but  on  goes  the 
fearless  sutler,  carefully  picking  his  way.  Look  very 
closely,  now,  and  we  can  see  what  aj)i>ears  to  be  a 
moving  sage-hush.  Slowly,  almost  imperceptibly,  it 
creeps  over  the  ledges.  If  Pat  would  only  look  in 
the  right  direction  he  could  see  it  and  have  a  chance 
at  the  travelling  bush;  and  as  he  is  a  good  shot,  he 
might  scatter  the  leaves,  besides  boring'a  hole  through 
Steamboat  FranFs  head.  A  puff  of  smoke  comes 
out  of  the  now  immovable  bush,  and  the  repoit  min- 
gles with  the  roar  of  battle.  Pat's  mule  d)-ops  under 
him,  and  he  slips  off  and  takes  cover  behind  a  low 
rock.  The  mule  recovers  its  feet,  and,  with  almost 
human  scjisc,  makes  its  way  back  to  the  soldiers'  line. 
Pat,  arixious  to  discover  his  man,  raises  his  head 
above   lie   rocks.     Whiz!    comes  another  bullet,  so 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  M500 

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526 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


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close  that  Pat  drops  back  quietly, — indeed,  so  very 
quietly  that  the  soldiers  report  him  dead;  and  noble- 
hearted  Pat  is  named  among  the  slain.  But  let  us 
see  how  he  really  is.  After  lying  contented  awhile, 
he  again  slowly  lifts  his  head,  and  another  shot  comes 
so  close  that  Pat  again  drops  behind  the  rock,  and  a 
second  time  the  soldiers  shout,  "  They've  got  him  this 
time,  sure  I" 

Not  so,  however.  Pat  is  not  hurt  yet.  Again 
and  again  he  attempts  to  move  fi-om  behind  the  rock, 
scarcely  large  enough  to  protect  him,  and  each  time 
Steamboat  fires.  'No  one  who  knows  Pat  McManus 
ever  doubted  his  courage,  but  he  deserves  credit,  also, 
for  remembering  that  "  Discretion  is  the  better  part 
of  valor."  He  finally  arranges  himself  for  a  "  quiet 
snooze  behind  the  rock,"  as  he  expressed  it,  and 
a\>aited  the  welcome  shades  of  evening.  He  then 
crawls  out  to  tLe  soldier  line.  It  is  said  that  he  stood 
the  fire  of  the  soldiers  who  mistook  him  for  an  In- 
dian, until  he  shouted  to  them,  "  Dry  up,  there !  It's 
me  I  Don't  you  know  a  white  man  on  his  knees  from 
an  Injun  on  his  belly?  " 

Directly  west  of  Captain  Jack's  stronghold  is  a  flat 
an  almost  level  plain  of  lava  rocks  of  six  hundred 
yards  in  width,  but  commanded  by  the  stronghold, 
while  it  does  not  offer  protection  to  those  who  attempt 
to  hold  it.  To  complete  the  mvestment  it  is  neces- 
sary to  take  this  "  flat."  Lieut.  Eagan  is  ordered  to 
the  execution  of  this  enterprise.  He  is  a  daring  lead- 
er, and,  calling  to  his  men  to  follow,  moves  forward. 
It  is  known  to  be  a  hazardous  undertaking,  but  Eagan 
is  just  the  man.  Away  he  goes,  jumping  from  one 
rock  to  another,  calling  to  his  men :     "  Come,  my 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


527 


boys  I  come  I"  he  cries.  But  suddenly  the  Lava 
Eocks  in  front  belch  forth  Modoc  bullets,  and  the  gal- 
lant lieutenant  drops.  Then  a  soldier,  and  then  an- 
other. Eagan  shouts,  "Fall  back  I"  Pell-mell  they 
go,  stooping,  jumping  and  shouting,  leaving  the  brave 
fellow  alone,  while  his  men  take  a  position  where 
they  can  prevent  the  Modocs  from  capturing  their 
leader. 

Dr.  Cabanis,  —  who  seems  to  bear  a  charmed  life, 
—  hearing  of  Eagan's  fall,  goes  to  him.  The  Modocs 
open  fire  on  him.  Steadily  the  gallant  doctor  moves 
forward,  sometimes  taking  cover  as  best  he  can,  again 
moving,  half  bent,  from  rock  to  rock,  and  when  he 
reaches  the  wounded  man  a  shout  goes  up  from  the 
soldiers.  The  wound  is  dressed,  and  the  doctor,  un- 
able to  carry  his  patient,  leaves  him  and  returns  again 
to  the  line. 

While  this  battle  is  going  on,  two  coaches  of  the 
Northwest  Stage  Company  meet,  one  going  north 
and  the  other  south.  Observing  a  custom  common 
among  western  stage  people,  they  halt  and  exchange 
news  items.  In  the  stage  going  north  is  the  body  of 
Gen.  Cenby,  in  charge  of  his  adjutant,  Anderson,  and 
Orderly  Scott.  In  the  other  stage  is  Mrs.  Meacham, 
accompanied  by  a  stranger.  Indeed,  she  has  found  a 
new  escort  at  almost  every  station,  who  would  an- 
nounce himself  as  "your  husband's  brother."  Mem- 
bers of  this  brotherhood  have  been  informed  by  tele- 
graph all  along  the  road  that  "A  Brother's  Wife  is 
en  route  for  the  Lava  Beds.  Look  out  for  her  wants. 
See  that  she  is  escorted  and  send  the  bills  to  ]^o.  50, 
F.  A.  M.,  Salem." 

Anderson  goes  to  the  other  coach.    Mrs.  Meacham 


I«l 


1 1 ! 


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II  !■• 


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W'    ivili 


ill 


528 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


anxiously  inquires,  "  Did  you  see  my  husband  after 
he  was  wounded  ?  " 

"  I  sat  beside  him  half  an  hour,"  he  replies.  "  He  is 
doing  well." 

"  Will  he  recover  ? "  questions  Mrs.  Meacham. 
"  Is  he  mortally  wounded  ?  " 

"We  hope  he  will  get  well.  His  wounds  are  not 
necessarily  fatal,"  replies  the  adjutant.  "A  great 
deal,"  he  continues,  "depends  on  good  treatment. 
Your  hrother  is  with  him.  Everything  that  can  be 
done  is  being  done." 

Anderson  walks  sadly  back  to  his  charge  of  the 
lamented  general. 

The  driver  of  the  other  stage  dismounts  and 
accosts  Mr.  Anderson  as  he  resumes  his  seat. 

"  Is  there  any  hope  for  Mr.  Meacham  ?  "  he  asks. 

"  Xot  the  least  in  the  world  ;  but  his  wife  must  not 
know  it  now,"  replies  Anderson,  in  a  low  voice  ;  but 
O  my  God  !  loud  enough  for  the  quick  ears  of  Mrs. 
Meacham  to  catch  the  words. 

The  drivers  take  up  the  lines.  The  stages  pass. 
In  one  Gen.  Canby's  body  is  being  borne  to  his  heart- 
broken wife.  In  the  other  a  heart-broken  wife  is  go- 
ing to  her  husband,  with  the  thought  that  she  would  be 
northward  borne  in  a  few  days,  with  her  husband  con- 
iSned  in  a  dark  coffin.  The  southern-bound  stage 
reaches  Jacksonville.  The  strange  gentleman  assists 
Mrs.  Meacham  to  alight,  and  attends  to  her  baggage 
while  the  change  of  coaches  is  being  made.  He  then 
introduces  another  stranger  to  Mrs.  Meacham  as 
"  your  husband's  brother,  who  will  go  to  Y-re-ka  with 
you." 

It  is  Wednesday  evening  when  the  stage  is  slowly 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


531 


climbing  Siskiyou  mountain.  The  occupants  are  but 
two,  one  a  lady.  She  does  not  speak.  She  has  no 
hope  now.  The  gentleman  is  silent.  He,  too,  has 
lost  hope  in  the  recovery  of  the  lady's  husband. 

Lieut.  Eagan  is  being  carried  to  his  tent.  The 
hospital  is  full  of  patients  groaning  with  pain.  Near 
the  door  lies  a  Warm  Springs  Indian  scout.  The 
surgeons  are  probing  his  wound,  while  he  laughs  and 
talks  to  the  attendants,  making  sarcastic  remarks 
about  "  the  Modocs  using  powder  that  couldn't  shoot 
through  his  leg." 

The  Iowa  veteran  announces  to  his  brother-in-law 
that  his  wife  will  be  in  Y-re-ka  that  night. 

The  Modocs  are  out  of  water.  The  ice  they  had 
stored  in  the  caves  is  exhausted.  They  determine  to 
cut  their  way  to  the  lake,  but  a  few  hundi'ed  yards 
distant.  They  concentrate  their  forces,  and,  envel- 
oped in  sage  brush,  they  crawl  up  near  the  line  of 
soldiers  and  open  fire  in  terrible  earnest.  Soldiers 
fall  on  right  and  left.  The  Modocs  yell  and  push 
their  line.  The  white  soldiers  are  massing  to  resist. 
The  fire  is  awful.  Peal  after  peal,  volley  after  volley, 
and  still  the  Modocs  hold  their  ground.  All  night 
long  the  Modoc  yell  mingles  with  the  rattle  of  mus- 
ketry, and  the  shouts  of  defiance  from  the  soldiers. 
One  party  is  fighting  in  desperation;  the  other  from 
duty. 

While  this  battle  is  raging,  the  stage-coach  from 
the  IN'orth  arrives  at  Y-re-ka,  and  stops  at  the  hotel. 
A  gentleman  says  a  few  words  to  the  driver.  The 
street-lamps  before  Judge  Koseborough's  door  throws 
its  light  on  the  faces  of  several  ladies  and  gentlemen 
who  stand  waiting  to  receive  the  lady  passenger.  She 


532 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


is  met  with  warm-hearted  kindness,  although  every 
face  is  new.  Supper  is  waiting.  Every  effort  is 
made  for  the  lady's  comfort.  She  weeps  now,  although 
this  great  sorrow  of  her  life  had  seemed  to  dry  up 
the  fountain  of  tears  until  the  warm  hearts  and  kind 
words  of  strange  voices  had  touched,  with  melting 
power,  her  inner  soul.  A  short  sleep,  and  she  arises, 
to  find  a  four-horse  carriage  awaiting  to  bear  her  to 
the  Lava  Beds.  A  new  escort  takes  his  place  beside 
her. 

Just  after  daylight,  and  while  leaving  the  Shasta 
valley,  a  few  miles  out  of  Y-re-ka,  the  driver  announces 
a  courier  coming  from  the  Lava  Beds.  As  he  ap- 
proaches, he  draws  from  his  "  cantena  "  —  a  leather 
pocket  carried  on  the  saddle-front  —  a  paper,  and, 
waving  it  while  he  checks  his  panting  horse,  says, 
"  For  Mrs.  Meacham."  Oh,  the  power  of  a  few  words  I 
How  they  can  change  darkness  into  light!  The  let- 
ter read  as  follows  :  — 

Lava  Beds,  Tuesday  Eve.,  April  15. 

Deab  Sister  :  —  Your  husband  will  recover.    His  wounds  are 

doing  well,  but  he  will  never  be  very  handsome  any  more. 

Your  brother, 

D.  J.  FERREE. 


This  inveterate  joker  cannot  resist  the  temptation 
to  mix  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  in  all  he  does.  But 
we  forgive  him. 

This  morning,  as  the  sun  dispels  the  darkness,  the 
Modocs  abandon  the  attempt  to  reach  the  lake.  For 
two  days  and  nights  they  have  fought  without  sleep. 
They  are  suffering  from  thirst  and  long-continued 
fighting;  but  no  signs  of  surrender  are  anywhere  vis- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


533 


tble.  The  chief  has  called  a  council.  It  is  decided 
to  evacuate  on  the  approach  of  night,  and  the  braves 
are  ordered  to  hold  their  fire  unless  to  resist  a  charge. 

A  few  of  the  Modocs  have  passed  outside  the  lines 
by  way  of  the  "  open  flat,"  and  are  crawling  towards 
the  soldiers'  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  bluflf.  Gen.  Gil- 
liam, Dr.  McEldry  and  others  have  passed  over  the 
route  unharmed.  The  horse-stretchers  have  passed 
and  repassed  with  their  mangled  freight.  The  pack- 
ponies  are  all  busily  engaged,  and  the  team  horses, 
that  were  ordered  by  the  quartermai^cer  into  service, 
are  employed  in  carrying  the  dead.  The  pack-trains 
and  teams  belong  to  private  citizens,  and  have  been 
employed  by  the  Government  in  carrying  and  haul- 
ing supplies.  It  was  not  expected,  however,  that 
they  would  be  required  to  carry  bleeding  and.  man- 
gled human  freight. 

"  Necessity  knows  no  law."  In  the  beginning  of 
the  -battle,  the  citizen  teamsters  were  ordered  to  this 
place  for  duty.  Among  them  was  a  fair-haired  boy 
of  nineteen  years  of  age,  who  had  trained  his  team 
horses,  on  the  first  and  second  days  of  the  battle,  to 
walk  between  the  poles  that  made  the  mule-stretch- 
ers. The  poles  were  about  twenty  feet  long,  and  at 
either  end  a  stout  strap  was  attached  to  each.  These 
straps  were  thrown  across  the  saddles  on  the  horses, 
one  being  immediately  in  front  of  the  other,  and 
between  them  canvas  was  secured  to  the  poles,  thus 
constituting  a  "horse-stretcher."  This  boy  had 
proved  himself  very  efficient,  and  had  won  the  com- 
mendation of  the  officers,  and  the  gratitude  of  the 
wounded  men.  Dr.  McEldry  had  requested  the  quar- 
termaster to  continue  young  Hovey  in  the  service, 


534 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


ill 


because  in  managing  the  stretchers  he  was  careful 
and  trustworthy. 

A  presentiment  had  this  morning  filled  the  mind  of 
this  noble  young  fellow  with  dread.  He  made  appli- 
cation to  Quartermaster  Grier  to  be  excused  from  fur- 
ther duty  with  the  stretchers,  stating  his  reasons.  Mr. 
Grier  expressed  his  sympathy  with  him  and  endeav- 
ored to  allay  his  fears,  remarking  that  Dr.  McEldiy  had 
paid  him  a  high  compliment  for  his  efficiency  and 
requested  him — Mr.  Grier — to  send  him  out  again 
this  morning. 

The  boy  —  too  hrave  to  refuse,  although  no  law 
could  have  compelled  him  to  go,  though  his  horses 
might  have  been  pressed  into  service  —  assented,  re- 
marking that,  notwithstanding  he  had  made  several 
t        safely  f  he  should  not  get  hack  from  this  one. 

.er  preparing  his  horses  for  this  unpleasant  labor 
he  goes  to  a  citizen  friend,  and  gives  him  his  watch 
and  other  valuables,  saying  that  he  did  not  expect  to 
retuim,  as  he  had  had  a  presentiment  that  he  would 
not;  and  he  gave  to  this  friend  a  message  to  his 
father,  another  for  his  mother,  and  mentioning  the 
names  of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  left  a.  few  words  of 
love  for  each.  The  grandeur  of  character  and  hero- 
ism exhibited  by  this  boy  stand  out  among  the  few 
instances  that  are  given  to  mankind  in  proof  of  the 
divinity  that  controls  human  action.  Nothing  but 
godlike  attributes  could  have  sustained  young  Hovey 
when  calmly  performing  those  manly  actions  which 
entitle  his  name  to  be  enrolled  among  the  heroes  of 
the  age.  So  let  it  be  recorded,  and  let  it  stand  with 
the  nineteen  siunmers  he  had  lived,  accusing  and  con- 
demning those  who  so  wildly  howled  for  blood  when 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


535 


the  Peace  Commissioners  were  laboring  to  prevent 
what  might  have  been  only  a  terrible  phantasmagoria, 
but  which  has  become  an  awful  reality. 

Young  Hovey,  accompanied  by  one  assistant  only, 
started  on  his  way  to  the  battle-field  with  four  horses 
and  two  stretchers.  No  guard  was  deemed  necessary, 
because  it  was  understood  that  the  Modocs  were 
surrounded  and  "could  not  escape,"  and  it  was  so 
reported,  by  the  general  commanding,  to  his  superiors. 
Hovey  and  his  companion  had  passed  by  the  scene 
of  the  tragedy  of  the  Peace  Commissioners  but  a 
few  rods,  and  but  a  few  hundred  yards  behind  Gen. 
Gilliam,  when,  from  the  cover  of  the  rocks,  a  Modoc 
bullet,  shot  by  Hooker  Jim,  went  with  a  death- 
dealing  power  through  his  head.  The  monsters, 
not  content  with  his  death  and  the  captiu-e  of  his 
horses,  rush  upon  him,  and  while  he  is  yet  alive,  scalp 
him,  strip  him  of  his  clothing,  and  then,  with  inhu- 
man ferocity,  the  red  fiends  crush  his  head  to  a 
shapeless  mass  with  huge  stones.  His  companion 
escapes  unhurt. 

This  outrage  was  committed  almost  within  sight 
of  the  army,  which  was  investing  the  stronghold,  and 
the  camp  at  the  bluff. 

Having  despatched  young  Hovey,  the  Modocs  then 
turned  towards  the  latter  camp.  Lieut.  Grier,  who 
was  in  command,  immediately  telegraphed  to  Col. 
Greene,  in  command  at  the  Lava  Beds,  that  "  The 
Modocs  were  out  of  the  stronghold  and  had  attacked 
the  camp."  He,  also,  called  together  the  citizens 
and  his  own  forces,  as  Assistant  Acting  Quarter- 
.  master,  and,  arming  them,  prepared  to  resist.  But 
a  few  shots  were  fired  by  the  Lidians^  however,  one 


636 


WIQWAM  AND   WAUI'ATH. 


or  two  balls  landed  among  the  tents  near  the  hospital. 
The  Modocs  presently  withdrew. 

The  day  is  passing  away  with  the  almost  useless 
expenditure  of  powder  and  shells.  However,  there 
was  a  shell  sent  in  yesterday  that  did  not  explode 
when  delivered,  and  the  Modocs  are  anxious  to  sec 
what  is  inside  of  it.  How  to  do  so  is  a  question  in 
the  Modoc  mind.  Several  plans  arc  tried  unsuc- 
cessfully, until  an  old  Cum-ba-twas,  with  jaws  like  a 
cougar,  taking  it  in  his  hands  and  clinching  the  plug 
with  his  teeth,  produces  a  combustion  that  he  docn  not 
anticipate.  That  shell  does  execution.  In  fact,  it  is 
worth  about  Jive  hundr;d  thousand  dollars  to  the 
Government,  rating  its  services  pro  rata  with  the  total 
cost  of  killing  Modoc  Indians.  AVhen  the  plug  starts, 
the  head  of  the  old  fellow  who  is  holding  it  goes  off 
his  body  in  a  damaged  condition.  Another  younger 
man,  who  stands  by  waiting  the  result  of  the  exper- 
iment, is  blown  all  to  pieces,  cutting  his  scalp  into  con- 
venient sizes  for  the  soldiers  to  divide  to  advantage. 

Two  or  three  old  Indian  women  pass  through  the 
lines  to  th^  water.  A  young  brave  dons  woman's 
clothes  and  comes  to  the  line.  After  slaking  his 
thirst  he  starts  to  return.  Something  in  his  walk 
creates  a  suspicion. 

"  That's  a  man,"  says  a  soldier. 

The  Indian  runs.  A  dozen  rifles  command,  "  Halt !  " 
The  Indian  halts.  The  soldiers  take  five  or  six 
scalps  off  that  fellow's  head,  and  would  have  taken 
more,  had  the  first  ones  been  less  avaricious.  How- 
ever, soldiers  are  kind-hearted  and  unselfish  fellows, 
and  the  scalps  are  again  divided,  so  that,  at  last,  ten 
or  twelve  are  happy  in  the  possession  of  a  scalp. 


WIOWAM   ANI>   WARPATH. 


537 


It  is  now  five  P.  M.  Let  us  see  how  the  several 
parties  are  situated  at  this  time.  Couriers  arc  en 
route  to  Y-re-ka  with  despatches,  telling  the  world 
about  the  terrible  slaughter,  and,  by  the  authority  of 
the  general  in  command,  assuring  the  powers  that  be, 
in  Washington,  "  The  Modocs  cannot  escape.  They 
are  in  our  poA\  er.  It  is  only  a  question  of  time.  We 
have  them  '  corralled.' " 

In  Portland,  Oregon,  an  immense  concourse  of 
citizens  arc  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  train  bearing 
the  remains  of  Gen.  Canby.  The  streets  are  hushed. 
The  doors  of  business  houses  are  closed.  A  general 
ferliug  of  sorrow  is  everywhere  manifest.  Officers 
of  the  army  and  a  delegation  from  a  Great  Broth- 
erhood are  there.  On  every  hand  flags  are  at  half- 
mast.  Emblems  of  sorrow  meet  chc  eye  The  grief- 
stricken  widow  sits  in  her  room,  cold,  comfortless, 
inconsolable. 

The  Fraternal  and  Church  Brotherhoods  and 
thousands  of  mourning  friends  crowd  the  whai-f  in 
San  Francisco,  eagerly  watching  the  coming  of  a 
steamer  from  Vallejo  with  flags  at  half  mast.  This 
boat  is  bringing  home  for  intennent  the  body  of 
another  great  man,  whose  spirit  went  to  its  Maker  in 
company  with  the  Christian  General,  for  whom  the 
city  of  Portland,  Oregon,  mourns.  Nearest  to  the 
dark  tabernacle  two  young  men  are  standing.  They 
are  the  sons  of  Dr.  Thomas. 

While  the  two  cities  of  the  western  coast  are 
exchanging  telegraphic  words  of  sympathy,  kind- 
hearted  friends  are  filling  a  parlor  where  three  sorrow- 
ing children  are  weeping  without  the  presence  of 
parents.     The  friends  are  repeating  the  hopeful  tele- 


V  «. 


m 


538 


WIG'VAM  AND   WAKPATH. 


grams  of  the  Iowa  veteran,  and  assuring  them  that 
their  mother  is  with  their  father  bj  that  time  as  she 
left  Y-re-ka  the  previous  morning. 

At  this  hour  a  young  physician  is  hurrjnng  to  the 
bedside  of  an  aged  man,  who  has  passed  threescore 
years  and  ten,  near  Solon,  Iowa.  A  glance  at  his 
face  and  we  are  reminded  of  the  wounded  Peace 
Commissioner  in  the  Lava  Beds,  three  thousand  miles 
away.  Five  days  ago  he  had  read  the  telegram  that 
said,  "  Meacham  mortally  wounded."  He  threw  him- 
self on  his  bed  then,  saying,  "  If  my  son  dies  I  never 
can  rise  again,  —  my  first-born  son  who  went  with  me 
through  all  my  dark  hours  on  the  frontier,  twenty- 
five  years  ago.  Must  he  die?  Can  I  bear  it?  Thy 
will  be  done,  O  Lord ! " 

For  five  days  has  he  laid  hanging  between  life  and 
death.  His  physician  has  watched  the  telegraph, 
and  now,  with  the  words  of  the  Iowa  veteran,  he  is 
hurrying  to  the  bedside  of  his  patient. 

"Your  son  will  recover  1 "  the  doctor  exclaims 
before  reaching  him. 

The  white-haired  man  rises  on  his  elbow,  saying, 
"Do  I  dream?  Is  it  true,  doctor?  Will  my  son 
Uve?  " 

About  this  hour,  away  up  on  Wild  Horse  Creek, 
Umatilla  County,  Oregon,  a  young  man  is  writing  a 
letter  that  seems  to  come  from  an  overcharged  heart 
submerged  in  grief.     The  letter  runs  as  follows:  — 

Meacham  Ranch,  Wiij>  Hokbe  Creek,  April  17th,  1873. 

Mt  dear  Nephew  :  —  I  have  just  heard  of  the  death  of  your 

father.     .     .     .     Eleven  months  since  we  kneeled  with  him  beside 

your  Uncle  Harvey's  coffin  and  pledged  our  lives  to  care  for  his 

widow  and  orphan  children.    .     .    .    You  and  I,  George,  aie 


WIGWAM   AKD   WARPATH. 


539 


all  that  are  left  to  care  for  two  widows  nnci  two  families  of  orphans. 

.     .     .    The  stroke  is  licavy   to  be  borne.     ...    I  will    try 

to  be  a  fatlicr  to  tlicm.    Wc  must  be  men. 

Your  uncle, 

JOHN  MEACHAM. 


Again  we  stand  on  the  bluff,  at  this  hour,  over- 
looking the  Lava  Beds.  In  a  little  tent  among 
the  hundred  others  the  Iowa  veteran  is  telling  his 
brother-in-law  that  his  wife  will  be  in  carap  by  seven. 
A  courier  arrives  saying  that  the  Modocs  are  hanging 
about  the  trail  leading  down  the  mountain.  The 
ofBcers  are  aware  of  the  near  approach  of  Mrs. 
Meacham.  They  decide  that  she  cannot  come  to  the 
camp  with  safety.  A  detachment  is  ordered  to 
escort  Commissioner  Dyer  up  the  mountain  to  meet 
her  and  take  her  to  Linkville. 

While  he  is  working  his  way  under  escort,  the 
Modocs  are  seen  creeping  towards  the  road.  At  the 
top  of  the  mountains  Dyer  meets  the  ambulance. 
He  assures  the  woman  that  she  cannot  reach  the 
camp ;  that  her  husband  is  well  cared  for,  and  that  she 
must  go  back  to  a  place  of  safety. 

She  remonstrates,  saying,  "  I  must  —  I  will  go  to 
my  husband."  She  alights  from  the  ambula  j  and 
starts  on  foot,  but  is  intercepted  and  forced  to  go 
again  to  the  ambulance,  with  the  assurance  that  "  her 
husband  will  h^.  sent  out  to  her  within  a  day  or 
twor 

No  language  can  portray  the  feelings  and  emotions 
of  this  woman  when,  after  travelling  three  hundred 
miles  on  stages  and  in  ambulances  over  the  Cascade 
mountains,  through  a  hostile  country,  she  is  compelled 
to  turn  lack  when  within  three  miles  of  her  wounded 


540 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


husband,  with  those  ommous  words  saymg,  like  a 
funeral  dirge,  "  Your  husband  will  he  sent  out  to  you 
in  a  few  days." 

While  she  is  yet  pleading  for  the  privilege  of  seeing 
him  the  mountain's  sides  reverberate  with  the  sounds 
of  rifle  shots  coming  up  from  a  point  halfway  to  the 
camp,  volley  answering  volley.  While  she  is  in  a 
half-unconscious  condition,  the  team  drawing  the  am- 
bulance is  turned  about,  and  the  guard  take  their 
places  on  either  side,  and  the  team  moves  away  to- 
wards the  frontier. 

When  the  woman  returns  to  consciousness,  she 
exclaims,  "  Take  me  to  my  husband  1  I  must  see  him 
before  he  dies." 

The  Mnd  heart  of  Mr.  Dyer  is  moved.  He  pleads 
with  her  to  abandon  the  attempt,  consoling  her  with 
Christian  assurances  that "  God  does  all  things  well." 
With  the  guard  in  skirmishing  order  the  party  hur- 
ries away. 

The  mutilated  body  of  young  Hovey  is  lying  stark 
and  cold,  beside  the  road  where  he  fell. 

Sundown  is  announced  by  the  repeated  volleys  of 
musketry  at  the  cemetery,  as  the  bodies  of  the  sol- 
diers are  laid  away  in  their  last  sleep. 

The  friends  of  the  young  lad  obtain  permission, 
and  the  necessary  facilities,  from  the  quartermaster,  to 
bring  in  his  body.  A  coffin  is  prepared,  and  in  it  is 
placed  what  was,  a  few  hours  since,  a  noble-hearted 
youth  full  of  life. 

A  part  of  the  army  is  resting,  and  a  part  is  bom- 
barding the  Modocs.  Captain  Jack  has  kept  the 
"  flat "  cleared,  and  now,  while  the  shot  and  shell  are 
being  tumbled  in  around  his  camp,  he  draws  his  peo- 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


541 


pie  out  under  cover  of  darkness,  and  leaves  the  sol- 
diers to  fire  away  at  his  empty  caves  until  morning, 
when  another  order  to  charge  is  made,  and  the  lines 
close  slowly  up  with  great  care,  like  fishermen  who 
feel  sure  they  have  a  big  haul,  until  they  land  the 
seine,  and  discover  that  a  great  rent  has  let  the  prize 
escape.  See  the  soldiers'  line!  How  carefully  it  con- 
tracts to  the  centre,  the  soldiers  expecting  each 
moment  that  the  Modocs  will  make  a  break,  until,  at 
last,  the  lines  come  together  like  a  great  draw-string, 
only  to  reveal  th(3  fact  that  no  Indians  are  thercy 
except  one  old  mm,  whom  all  declare  to  be  Schonchin, 
who  was  wound  id  by  Meacham's  Derringer  last  Fri- 
day. He  shall  not  escape,  and  a  dozen  bullets  pass 
through  him.  He  falls  over,  and  the  men  gather 
around  and  scalp  the  old  fellow. 

"  Mcacham  shall  have  a  lock  of  his  hair,"  says  one; 
and  he  cuts  it  from  one  of  the  scalps. 

Then  the  old  Indian's  head  is  severed  from  his 
body,  and  kicked  around  the  camp  like  a  foot-ball, 
until  a  surgeon  interferes,  and  saves  it  from  further 
indignities  by  sending  it  to  the  camp,  where  the  face 
was  carefully  skinned  off,  and  "put  to  pickle"  in 
alcohol.  The  men  shout  and  hurrah  while  exploring 
the  caves,  expecting  to  find  Captain  Jack,  like  a  wolf 
at  bay,  somewhere,  determined  to  "  die  in  the  last 
ditch."  Instead  of  Modocs,  they  find  the  remains  of 
soldiers  who  have  been  killed,  ammunition  that  had 
been  captured,  and  dried  beef  that  had  not  been 
required;  but  no  evidence  of  any  "  Modoc  bodies  hav- 
ing been  burned." 

While  they  were  rejoicing  in  the  capture  of  this 
great  natural  fortress  of  the  Modoc  chief,  he  was  in  a 


543 


WIOWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


new  position  with  his  people,  resting  and  recruiting 
from  the  three  days'  battle,  and  so  near  his  old 
"  stronghold "  that  he  could  hear  the  reports  of  the 
soldiers'  muskets  when  they  finished  up  the  supposed 
Schonchin. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 


MUSIC  DONT  SOOTHE  A  SAVAGE  —  FIGHTING  THB  DEVIL 
WITH  FIRE  A  FAILURE  — "WE'LL  BURY  THE  OLD  MAN 
ALIVE." 

The  expectant  man  has  waited,  watched,  listened 
for  the  sound  of  a  voice  that  would  bring  joy  to  him. 
His  attendant  carefully  breaks  the  disappointment, 
fearing  the  consequences. 

Friday  morning,  and  a  "Warm  Springs  soldier  is 
sitting  beside  the  commissioner.  A  look  at  his  face, 
and  we  recognize  him  as  the  man  who  stood  out  so 
long  in  the  meeting  at  Warm  Springs  Agency,  in  1871. 

Pia-noose  had  come  in  to  vent  his  feelings  and  to 
express  his  friendship.  After  the  usual  ceremony  of 
salutation  on  his  part,  he  remarked  that  the  white 
men  did  not  know  how  to  fight  Modocs.  "  Too  much 
music.  Suppose  you  take  away  all  the  music,  all  the 
big  guns,  all  the  soldiers,  and  tell  the  "Warm  Springs, 
*  "Whip  the  Modocs;'  all  right.  Some  days  we  get 
two  men,  some  days  wo  get  more,  and  by  and  by  we 
get  ail  che  Modocs.  "Warm  Springs  don't  like  so  much 
music," — referring  to  the  bugle. 

This  morning  Gen.  Canby's  remains  are  lying  in 
state  in  Portland,  and  a  whole  city  weeps  with  the 
widow  who  does  not — cannot  look  on  the  beloved 
face. 

In  San  Francisco  bells  are  tolling,  and  a  vast  con- 
course of  sad-hearted  citizens  are  followmg  the  dark- 


544 


WIOWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


plumed  hearse  that  convoys  the  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  to 
his  last  resting-place  in  Lone  Mountain  Cemetery. 

Mrs.  Meaeham  is  sitting  in  a  small  jiarlor  at  Link- 
ville,  and  expecting  each  moment  the  arrival  of  a 
courier  that  will  confii'm  her  worst  fears.  Mrs. 
Boddy  —  whose  husband  was  murdered  last  Novem- 
ber by  the  Modocs  —  is  with  her.  The  two  mingle 
their  tears.  They  are  kindred,  now  that  sorrow  has 
united  them. 

Gen.  Gilliam  has  called  a  council  of  war,  and  plans 
for  future  operations  are  being  discussed.  The  hos- 
pital gives  out  a  sad  murmur  of  mingled  moans, 
curses,  and  groans.  Two  soldiers  are  going  toward 
the  burying-ground ;  one  carries  a  spade,  the  other  a 
small,  plain,  straight  box,  in  which  is  the  leg  of  a 
soldier  going  to  a  waiting-place  for  him.  Riddle  and 
his  wife,  Tobey,  are  cooking  and  washing  for  the 
wounded.  Riddle  often  calls  on  Meaeham,  bringing 
refreshments  prepared  by  his  wife.  Col.  Tom  Wright 
calls  on  Meaeham  this  morning.  A  spicy  colloquy 
ensues.  He  remarks  that  the  Modocs  are  nearly 
"h — 1."  Meaeham  says,  "Where  is  your  two  thou- 
sand dollars  now?  Suppose  you  and  Eagan  took 
them  in  fifteen  minutes,  didn't  you?"  Col.  Wright: 
"Took 'em,  not  much,  —  we  got  the  prettiest  licken 
ever  an  army  got  in  the  world."  Meachaui :  "  What 
kind  of  a  place  did  you  find,  anyhow,  colonel?" 
Col.  Wright:  "It's  no  use  talking;  the  match  to  the 
Modoc  stronghold  has  not  been  built  and  never  will 
be.  Give  me  one  hundred  picked  men,  and  let  me 
station  them,  and  I  will  hold  that  place  against  five 
tliousand  men, — yes,  ten  thousand,  as  long  as  am- 
unition  and  subsistence  last.     That's  about  as  near 


WIGWATII  AND  WARPATH. 


545 


as  I  can  describe  it.  Oh,  I  tell  you  it  is  the  most 
impregnable  fortress  in  the  world  I  Sumter  was 
nowhere  when  compared  with  it."  Meaeham :  "  "What 
kind  of  a  fighter  is  Captain  Jack,  colonel?"  Col. 
"Wright :  "  Fighter ;  why,  he's  the  biggest  Ingen  on 
this  continent.  See  what  he's  done;  licked  a  thou- 
sand men,  killed  forty  or  fifty,  and  has  not  lost  more 
than  three  or  four  himself.  We  starved  him  out,  we 
didiiH  whip  him.     He'll  turn   up  in  a  day  or   two. 


I  tell  you.   Jack's 


a  big 


ready  for  another  fight. 
Ingen." 

Let  us  see  where  this  distinguished  individual  and 
this  gallant  band  of  heroic  desperadoes  are  at  this 
time.  From  the  signal-station  on  the  mountain  side, 
above  Gilliam's  camp,  we  can  look  over  the  spot,  but 
they  are  so  closely  hidden  that  we  cannot  locate  them ; 
not  even  a  curl  of  smoke  is  seen.  Follow  the  foot 
of  the  bluff  around  three  miles,  and  then  strike  off 
south,  or  left,  two  miles  more,  and  amid  an  immense 
jumble  of  lava  rocks  we  find  them.  Go  carefully; 
Indian  women  are  on  the  picket-station,  wliile  the 
warriors  sleep.  Since  sundown  last  evenhig  they 
passed  between  the  soldier  '^amp  and  the  council 
tent  and  brought  water  to  the  famishing.  A  man 
sits  upon  a  jaded  horse,  at  the  gate  of  a  farm-house, 
near  Y-re-ka.  Children  are  playing  in  the  front  yard. 
A  watch-dog  springs  to  his  feet  and  gives  warning 
by  loud  barking.  A  stout-built  man  looks  out  from  a 
barn  to  ascertain  the  meaning,  while  a  middle-aged 
woman  comes  to  the  kitchen  door.  Tiie  whole,  to- 
gether, is  the  picture  of  a  western  farmer's  home,  — 
happiness  and  contentment.  The  horseman  takes  in 
the  scene,  and  while  he  views  the  photograph  he  recog- 


'SI 


546 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


nizes  in  it  the  home  of  young  Hovey.  A  painful  duty 
is  his.  He  hesitates.  He  knows  that  his  words  will 
send  a  dark  shadow  over  this  household.  The  farmer 
comes  towards  hira.  The  dog  is  hushed;  the  children 
cease  their  sports;  the  mother  stands  waiting,  wait- 
ing, listening,  and  the  throbbing  of  her  own  heart 
prepares  her  for  the  awful  tidings.  "Is  this  Mr. 
Hovey?"  the  horseman  says,  while  from  his  inside 
coat  pocket  he  withdraws  a  letter.  "  That  is  my 
name,"  the  fanner  replies.  "  I  have  a  letter  for  you, 
Mr.  Hovey?  "  The  children  gather  around  the  father, 
looking  attentively  at  him  and  the  horseman,  while 
the  latter,  with  trembling  hand,"  passes  the  envelope 
that  is  so  heavy  ladened  with  sorrow.  "  Where's  the 
letter  from?"  asks  the  anxious  mother,  while  the 
father  tears  it  open.  "  The  Lava  Beds,"  replies  the 
horseman,  turning  away  his  face.  The  paper  shakes 
in  the  hands  of  the  farmer,  while  his  face  changes  to 
ashy  paleness.  "  What  is  it,  father?  Oh,  what  does 
the  letter  say?"  cries  the  mother,  as  she  comes  to  liis 
side  and  glances  over  his  arm.  Let  us  not  intrude 
on  this  scene  of  sorrow. 

Hanging  to  Hooker  Jim's  belt  is  a  fair-haired  scalp, 
still  fresh;  the  blood  of  young  Hovey  still  undried 
upon  Hooker's  clothing,  giving  him  no  more  concern 
than  if  it  had  come  from  the  veins  of  a  deer  or  an  an- 
telope. The  lock  of  hair  had  once  been  blessed  by 
the  hands  of  a  tender  mother,  w^ho  for  nineteen  years 
had  watched  over  her  first-born  son.  Now  it  is 
dishonored,  used  only  as  a  record  by  which  a  savage 
makes  proof  of  excellence  in  performing  feats  of 
fiendish  heroism. 

The  "  Iowa  Yeteran,"  with  an  eye  always  out  for 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


547 


sport,  remarks,  "  Old  man,  there's  going  to  be  some 
lively  fun  in  a  few  minutes;  wish  you  could  see  it. 
There's  fourteen  Indians  going  for  water,  and  a  com- 
pany has  started  out  to  capture  them.     Two  to  one 
the  Modocs  lick  'cm."    Taking  a  station  at  the  tent 
door,  he  continued :   "  I'll  keep  you  posted,  old  man ; 
keep  cool.     The  Modocs  are  taking  position.     They 
aint  more  than  eight  hundred  yards  from  here.     Now 
look  out,  —  the  fim  will  begin  pretty  soon."    Bangy 
hang,  and  there  is  a  rattling  of  rifles  mixed  with  the 
Modoc  war-whoop.    "  Here  they  come  back,  carrying 
three  men;  but  the  Modocs  are  following  up.    Don't 
that  beat  the  devil  and  the  Dutch?  "  remarks  the  irate 
veteran;  "  you've  seen  a  big  dog  chase  a  cayote  until 
the  cayote  would  turn  on  him,  and  then  the  big  dog 
would  turn  tail  and  run  for  home  with  the  cayote 
after  him,  haven't  you?    AVell,  that's  exactly  what's 
going  on  out  here  now.     This  whacks  anything  I 
ever  witnessed,  by  Jupiter  I     Two  to  one,  the  Mo- 
docs take  the   camp.     By  gorry,    old    man,  don't 
know  what  we  are  to  do  with  you.    You  can't  run; 
you  can't  fight;  you  are  too  big  for  me  to  carry;  wish 
I  had  a  spade,  Fd  bury  you  noio  until  tJie  fun  is  all 
over;  but  it's  too  late.    Can't  help  it,  old  man,  you 
needn't  dodge;  it  won't  do  any  good;  just  lay  still, 
and  if  they  come,  play  dead  on  'em  again.     You  can 
do  that  to  perfection,  and  there  aint  a  darn  bit  of  dan- 
ger of  their  trying  to  get  another  scalp  oflf  of  you. 
Too  big  a  prairie  above  the  timber  line    for  that, 
'Boston'  was  a  darn  fool  to  try  it  before." 

While  this  speech  is  being  made,  the  Modocs  are 
coming  towards  the  soldier  camp,  firing  occasional 
shots  in  among  the  tents.    "  By  Goshens,  we'll  have 


548 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


. 


fun  now.  TheyVe  a-going;  shell  'em;  ha!  ha  I  ha  I 
Shell  a  dozen  Modocsl  Hal  ha!  ha!  donH  that 
beat  sulphur  king  out  of  his  boots?  Ilal  ha  I  ha  I 
Steady,  old  man,  steady  now.  Keep  cool.  They're 
ready  to  fire.  The  Indians  are  in  plain  sight  I  Yip- 
se-lanta;  there  it  goes,  screeching,  screaming,  right  in 
among  the  rocks  where  the  Modocs  are,  and  ex- 
plodes." The  smoke  clears  up.  The  Indians  come 
out  from  behind  the  rocks,  and,  turning  sideways  to 
the  soldier  camp,  pat  their  shot-pouches  at  the  Bos- 
ton soldiers.  Shell  after  shell  is  fired  and  each  time 
the  Modocs  take  cover  until  they  explode,  and  then, 
with  provoking  insolence,  they  pat  their  shot-pouches 
at  an  army  of  five  hundred  men,  —  that  is,  what  is 
left  of  that  army.  "Cease  firing!''  commands  Gen. 
Gilliam,  from  the  signal-station.  The  shell  guns  are 
covered  with  the  nice  canvas  housing.  The  Modocs 
now  organize  an  artillery  battery,  and,  taking  position, 
elevating  their  rifles  to  an  angle  mocking  the  shell 
guns,  Scar-faced  Charley  stands  behind  and  gives  the 
order,  "  Fire  I  "  and  the  Modoc  battery  is  now  play- 
ing on  a  camp  where  there  are  no  rocks  for  cover. 
Several  shots  spit  down  among  the  Boston  soldiers. 

"I  went  with  Gricrson  through  Alabama,  with 
Sherman  through  Georgia,  but  that  whacks  anything 
ever  I  saw.  Two  to  one  they  attack  the  camp,  by 
thunder!  and  if  they  do  they'll  take  it  sure.  B'gins  to 
look  pretty  squally,  old  man.  If  they  cOme,  your  only 
show  is  to  play  dead.  You  can  do  it.  I  don't  like 
to  leave  you,  but  I'll  have  to  do  it,  no  other  chance. 
"We'll  come  back  and  bury  what  they  don't  burn  ui5." 

The  gray-eyed  man,  Fairchild,  comes  to  the  tent- 
door  and  engages  the  veteran  in  a  talk.    "I  say, 


WIGWAM  AND  WARTATH. 


549 


captain,  don't  you  wish  we  had  Capt.  Kelly's  volunteers 
here  now?  "Wouldn't  they  have  a  chance  for  Modoc 
steaks,  eh?  They're  the  fellows  that  could  take  the 
Modocs.  I've  been  out  home  and  just  come  in.  Where 
arc  the  Warm  Springs'  scouts  all  this  time?"  The 
veteran  —  Capt.  Ferree  —  replies :  "  Oh,  they  are  out 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Lava  Beds  surrounding  the 
Modocs;  to  keep  them  from  getting  away."  Fair- 
child:  "They  aint  going  to  leave  here,  no  fear  of 
that.  But  did  you  ever  see  anything  like  this  morn- 
ing's performances? — fourteen  Indians  come  out, 
kill  three  men,  insult  the  whole  camp,  mock  the  shell 
guns,  threaten  the  camp,  scare  everybody  most  to 
death,  and  then  retire  to  their  own  camp.  That  caps 
the  climax.  Say,  old  man  Meacham,  how  you 
making  it,  anyhow?  Going  to  come  out,  aint  you  ? 
You  wasn't  born  to  be  killed  by  the  Modocs,  that's 
certain.  That  old  bald  head  of  yours  is  what  saved 
you,  old  man,  no  mistake."  Veteran:  "I've  just 
been  telling  him  that  I'll  have  a  spade  on  hand  next 
time  the  Modocs  come,  so  I  can  hury  him  until  the 
fun's  over."  Fairchild:  "  Bully  1  that'll  do;  just 
the  thing.  I  think  you  had  better  have  the  hole 
ready.  !No  telling  what  might  happen.  Them  Modocs 
mighty  devilish  fellers;  just  like  'em  to  attack  the 
camp;  and  if  they  do  they'll  take  it,  sure;  wish 
we  had  the  Oregon  volunteers  here  now  to  protect 


us." 

Four  P.  M. --and  a  long  line  of  carriages  are 
returning  from  Lone  Mountain,  leaving  Dr.  Thomas 
with  the  dead. 

Another  long  line  of  mourners  are  following  a  hearse 
down  Front  street,  Portland,  to  the  steamer  Oriflamme, 


550 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


which  has  been  detailed  by  Ben  Holliday  to  bear  the 
remains  of  Gen.  Canby  to  San  Francisco.  The  widow 
is  supported  by  the  arms  of  officers.  Anderson  and 
Scott  walk  beside  the  hearse.  A  city  is  weeping,  while 
they  pay  respect  to  the  memory  of  the  noble-hearted 
Christian  General,  who  hears  not  the  signal  gun  of  de- 
parture. Couriers  are  bearing  despatches  to  Y-re-ka. 
"  The  Modocs  cannot  escape ;  we  have  them  surround- 
ed. The  Warm  Springs  scouts  are  out  on  the  out- 
post. The  Modocs  cannot  escape.  Lieut.  Shenvood 
died  last  night.  Lieut.  Eagan,  improving.  Meacham 
may  recover,  though  badly  mutilated  and  blind."  The 
salute  of  honor  over  the  grave  of  young  Hovey  an- 
nounces his  burial  by  the  kindly  band  of  army  officers. 
"  Extermination  to  the  Modocs  I "  says  Gen.  Sher- 
man. "  Extermination, "  repeat  the  newspapers. 
"  Extermination,"  says  an  echo  over  the  Pacific  coast. 
Extermination  is  the  watchword  everywhere.  "It 
does  look  like  extermination,  that's  a  fact,  with  half 
a  hundred  upheaving  graves  filled  with  soldiers  "\ear 
the  camp;  a  hospital  overflowing  with  wounded;  an 
araiy  demoralized,  and  lying  passive  seven  days  after 
the  assassination  of  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas; 
while  every  day  the  Modocs  waylay  and  kill  unguarded 
men  almost  in  sight  of  camp,  strip  and  scalp  them, 
and  then  heap  rocks  on  Iheir  bodies.  This  looks  like 
extermination,  but  not  of  the  Modocs.  Perhaps  it 
suits  those  who  were  so  free  with  denunciation  of  the 
Peace  Commission.  But  whether  it  does,  or  not,  this 
condition  of  the  plan  of  extermination  is  to  some  ex- 
tent attributable  to  the  infuriated,  senseless,  cowardly, 
and  unmanly  opposition  that  was  made  against  Canby 
and  the  Peace  Commissioners,  who  saw  and  felt  how 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


051 


costly  in  human  life  a  peace  made  through  the  death' 
dealing  hidlet?  must  he. 

Saturday  morning,  and  Modoc  emissaries  are  crawl- 
ing into  the  camps  of  the  KlamathSy  Snakes,  and 
Wall-pa-pahs,  endeavoring  to  induce  these  people  to 
join  the  Modocs  in  the  war.  They  paint  in  glowing 
colors  the  great  success  they  have  had,  and  declare 
that  the  time  has  come  when  red  men  should  unite 
against  a  common  enemy.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
in  every  Indian  camp  along  the  frontier  line  there 
were  sympathizers  with  the  Modocs;  but  nowhere  were 
they,  in  sufficient  force  to  precipitate  a  general  war, 
although  the  new  religion  proclaimed  by  "Smoheller" 
had  found  followers  everywhere,  and  was  gaining 
strength  by  every  victoiy  won  by  Captain  Jack.  How 
nearly  the  frontier  came  to  witnessing  a  great  Indian 
war  is  not  understood  by  the  jjcople  of  the  Pacific 
coast. 

A  "Wann  Springs  Indian,  who  does  not  belong  to  the 
scouts,  is  going  carefully  along  the  northern  shore  of 
the  lake.  His  destination  is  Linkville.  His  mission 
is  to  bear  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Meacham.  The  letter  con- 
tains a  message  that  will  cause  her  almost  to  leap  for 
joy:  — 

Lata  Beds,  Saturday,  April  ^9,  1873. 

•     •     •     •    Hire  an  escort  and  meet  us  at  the  mouth  of  Lost 

river  to-morrow  at  noon,   and  we  will  deliver  your  handsome  Zim*- 

band  over  to  you  in  pretty  good  shape.     .     .    We  will  cross  the 

lake  in  a  boat.    Be  on  time.    .     . 

D.  J.  FERREE. 

Saturday  passes  away  without  an  episode  that  is 
worthy  of  record.  Not  a  Modoc  has  been  seen.  The 
scouting  parties  have  brought  no  tidings  of  them.   The 


Mpf   ]■",. 


'^km 


U- 


552 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


-.m^^ 


The  surgeons  are  visiting 


sentinels  walk  the  rounds 
the  wounded.  The  hospital  gives  out  moans,  and  fur- 
nishes another  victim  for  the  gi'ave-yard,  and  a  volley 
of  muskets  says,  "Farewell,  comrade!  "  Meacham  is 
counting  the  hours  as  they  pass.  He  is  impatient. 
The  long  night  wears  away,  and  morning  breaks  at 
last.  Another  messenger  is  stealing  away  along  the 
lake  shore.  An  ambulance,  with  a  mounted  escort 
of  citizens,  is  drawing  toward  the  mouth  of  Lost  river. 
"Are  you  ready  to  take  me  to  meet  my  wife?"  says  a 
voice  in  a  small  tent.  "  l^o ;  the  surgeon  says  the  air  is 
raw,  and  the  lalce  is  too  rough.  "We  have  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  your  wife  that  we  can't  go,"  replies  Capt.  Ferree. 
After  a  few  minutes'  silence  the  disappointed  man  re- 
plies, "  That  is  not  the  reason.  The  wind  does  not 
How."  Very  serious  thoughts  are  passing  through 
the  minds  of  both  the  hearer  and  the  speakers.  "  I 
want  to  know  why  I  am  not  going."  —  "  The  doctor 
says  you  could  not  stand  it  to  go;  the  lake  is  too 
rough."  —  "You  and  the  doctor  are  cowardly.  You 
think  T  am  going  to  die."  —  "  If  you  force  me  to  be 
candid,  I  must  tell  you  the  truth.  The  doctor  says 
you  have  not  more  than  twenty  chances  in  a  hundred 
to  recover." 

Another  silence  of  a  few  minutes,  and  the  invalid 
replies,  "i'ZZ  take  the  twenty  chances,  I  must  live;  I 
have  so  many  depending  on  me." 

"  If  you  pass  midnight,  the  doctor  says  you  may 
live." 

The  ambulance,  with  the  mounted  escort,  is  stand- 
ing on  the  battle-ground  of  November  30th,  1872. 
A  woman  is  in  the  front  end,  with  a  field-glass,  scan- 
ning the  lake.    No  boat  is  in  sight.    Her  hopes  and 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


553 


lys  you  may 


fears  alternate,  when  she  suddenly  catches  sight  of 
the  messenger  on  the  lake  shore.  The  glass  drops  from 
her  hands,  and  she  sinks  down  on  the  seat  and  waits 
the  coming  of  the  messenger.  He  holds  out  the  let- 
ter. The  woman  grasps  it,  and  as  she  reads,  her  lips 
quiver.  "Why,  oh  why  is  this?  The  air  is  not 
cliilly.  The  lake  is  not  rough. "  Words  are  too 
poor  to  express  the  torturing  suspense  that  follows 
while  the  ambulance  carries  her  back  to  Linkville. 
Hope  sets  alternately  with  despair  in  the  heart.  For 
ten  days  has  this  woman  felt  the  presence  of  each 
as  circumstances  bade  them  come  and  go.  Two 
more  days  is  she  yet  to  walk  beneath  a  sky  that  is 
half  bidden  by  dark  clouds.  'Tis  midnight,  Sunday. 
The  surgeon,  De  Witt,  and  Capt.  Ferree  are  sitting 
beside  the  woman's  husband. 

"  I  can  tell  you  in  another  hour.  If  he  comes  out 
of  this  well,  he  is  all  right. "  Dr.  De  Witt,  with  his 
finger  on  the  patient's  pulse,  nods  to  Ferree,  "  He  is 
all  right. "  The  patient  awakes,  and  finds  the  doctor 
there.  "How  am  I,  doctor,  shall  I  live?" — "I  think 
you  will,  my  dear  fellow.  You  have  passed  the  crisis.  " 
"  Thank  God  I  "  comes  from  every  lip.  "  Keep  quiet; 
don't  get  excited.  We  can  save  you  now,  but  you  had 
a  very  close  call.  If  you  had  been  a  dnnhing  man  all 
the  surgeons  in  Christendom  could  not  hax^e  saved  you. 
Rest  quiet  until  morning,  and  I  will  come  in  again.  " 
Oh,  what  a  charge  a  few  hours  have  wrought  I  Yes- 
terday the  sun  went  behind  a  dark  cloud,  and  the  in- 
valid withstood  the  shock  of  "  Twenty  out  of  a  hun- 
dred "  for  life.  Now  the  sun  of  life  comes  again,  and 
makes  the  vision  clear  of  a  loving  family,  home  and 
friends.    The  transitions  from  despair  to  hope  have 


m 


I  <! 


554 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


been  so  frequent  with  this  man  that  he  can  scarcely 
reahze  that  he  is  again  led  by  the  angel  of  hope. 

It  is  morning.  Dr.  De  Witt  and  Capt.  Ferree  are 
in  council.  "  I  think  he  is  on  the  safe  side  if  he  is 
careful,"  remarks  the  doctor.  Another  messenger 
is  despatched  to  Linkville,  with  a  letter  making 
another  appointment  at  the  mouth  of  Lost  river  for 
the  next  day. 

Donald  McKay  is  in  camp  to  receive  orders.  He 
reports  that  his  scouts  have  circled  the  Lava  Beds. 
"  The  Modocs  have  not  escaped ;  they  must  be  in  there 
somewhere."  Couriers  arrive  bringing  newspapers, 
containing  obituary  notices  of  Gen.  Canby,  Dr. 
Thomas,  and  A.  B.  Meacham.  Fairchild,  Riddle, 
and  Ferree  were  in  Meacham's  tent,  reading.  Ferree 
remarks,  "See  here,  old  man,  they  have  had  you 
dead.  You  can  know  what  the  world  will  say  about 
you  when  you  do  die.  Some  of  them  say  /ery  nice 
things.  Here's  one  fellow  that  knows  you  pretty  well. 
.  .  .  *M<.'acham  was  a  man  of  strong  will  and 
positive  character,  who  made  warm  friends  and  bitter 
enemies.'"  .  .  .  *' There,  that  will  do;  when  I 
die  I  want  th.se  words  put  on  my  tombstone,"  re- 
plies Meacham.  "Here,  how  do  you  like  this?  . 
.  .  '  Served  him  right.  He  knew  the  Modocs 
better  than  any  other  man;  why  did  he  lead  Canby 
and  Thomas  to  their  death?  On  his  skirts  the  blood 
must  be.'  .  .  .  Here  is  another  that's  pretty 
good.  This  fellow  has  found  out  you  aint  dead,  and 
he  is  mad  about  it.  It's  a  Republican  organ,  too, 
at  that.  .  .  .  *If  Meacham  could  be  made  to 
change  places  with  Canby  or  Thomas  few  tears  would 
be  shed.    He  is  responsible  for  all  this  blood.    He 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATK. 


555 


Tcnew  the  Modocs.  They  did  not.  We  are  not  dis- 
appointed. We  expected  that  this  fanatical  en- 
thusiast would  do  some  foolhardy  thing,  and  we  can 
only  regret  that  he  did  not  suffer  instead  of  innocent 
men. '  .  .  .  There,  how  do  you  like  that,  old 
man?  That's  what  you  get  for  not  being  a  general  or 
a  preacher.  They  pay  you  a  high  compliment, — send- 
ing Canby  and  Thomas  to  their  death.  Big  thing, 
old  man  I  You  arc  somebody.  !N^ow,  I'll  tell  you 
if  you  don't  get  through  to  straighten  this  thing  out 
I'll  do  it,  if  it  costs  my  life." —  "  Call  on  me,  captain,  I 
Imow  that  Meacham  did  all  in  his  power  to  prevent 
the  meeting,"  says  Riddle.  Fairchild  remarks, "  If  they 
had  listened  to  Meacham,  they  would  have  been  alive 
now.  I  know  what  I  am  saying,  I  know  all  about 
the  whole  thing,  and  I  know  that  Meacham  did  his 
best  to  keep  them  from  going.  I  can  tell  those  news- 
paper men  some  things  they  would  not  like  to  hear. 
They  abused  Meacham  all  the  way  through,  while 
Canby  escaped  their  slander,  when  he  was  in  truth  as 
much  a  peace  man  as  Meacham,  and  more  too.  I  have 
been  with  the  commission.     All  I  have  to  say  is  that 

it  was  a  d d  cowardly  contemptible  thing  from 

the  beginning  to  the  end  the  way  the  Oregon  papers 
'  went  for '  the  peace  policy.  I  guess  they  are  satis- 
fied now.  They  wanted  war,  and  they've  got  it.  The 
Modoc-eatiny  Oregon  papers  and  volunteers  haven't 
lost  any  Modoc  themselves.  Better  send  some  more 
volunteers  down  here  to  eat  up  the  Modocs,  like  Capt. 

's  company  did  the  day  that  Shacknasty  Jim 

held  a  whole  company  for  seven  hours  in  check,  d n 

'em."  Capt.  Ferree  replies,  "Fairchild,  you  had 
better  go  slow.    Almost  every  editor  in  Oregon  is  a 


556 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


fighting  man.  Two  or  three  of  them  were  down  here 
once,  and  they  may  come  again  for  more  Modoc 
news,  and  if  they  run  across  you  you're  gone  up. " 
Fairchild :  "  Yes,  they're  '  on  it; '  seen  'em  try  it. 
Shacknasty  tried  'em.  One  of  them  came  down  here 
looking  for  Squire  Steele,  of  Y-re-ka,  and  when  a  man 
pointed  out  Steele  to  him,  this  fighting  editor  rode 
out  of  his  way  to  keep  from  meeting  him.  It's  a  fact! 
Another  one  was  going  to  scalp  old  Press  Dorris.  He 
didn't  fail  for  the  same  reason  that  Boston  Charley 
did  on  the  old  man  there,  —  cause  he  hadn't  any  hair; 
— no,  that  wasn't  the  reason.  He  rode  too  good  a  horse 
himself;  that's  why.  Press  was  around  all  the  time. 
He  didn't  keep  out  of  the  way;  fact  is.  Press  was 
anxious  for  the  scalping  to  begin.  If  any  of  those 
fighting  editors  come  down  here,  well,  set  Shacknasty 
after  them,  and  then  you'll  see  them  git.  Bet  a  hun- 
dred dollars  he  can  drive  any  two  of  them  before 
him." — "Look  here,  here's  something  rich,"  says 
Ferree,  turning  the  paper:  .  .  .  "*Gov.  Grover 
will  call  out  volunteers  to  assist  the  regulars.  They 
will  make  short  work  of  it.  The  regulars  are  eastern 
men,  and  cannot  fight  Indians  successfully.' "  Fair- 
child  says,  "  Thafs  rich.  One  thousand  soldiers 
here  now,  and  more  Oregon  volunteers  coming,  to 
whijj  fifty  3fodocs.  All  right;  the  more  comes  the 
wore  scalps  the  Modocs  will  take;  that's  about  what 
it'll  amount  to. " 

Monday  passes  slowly  away  to  join  the  unnumbered 
days  of  the  past.  ISTo  sound  of  war  is  heard.  Quiet 
reigns  until  the  sunset  volley  announces  that  the  de- 
composed lava  is  covering  up  another  one  of  the  fruits 
of  the  demand  for  blood,  and  the  cry  for  vengeance 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


557 


went  up  so  loudly  that  even  the  Modocs  in  the  Lava 
Beds  heard  it. 

Tuesday  morning.  The  ambulance  is  leaving  Link- 
ville,  escorted  by  a  mounted  guard  of  citizens, 
destined  to  the  Lost-river  battle-ground.  Hope  is 
leading  the  woman  who  is  making  this  second  jour- 
ney to  this  historic  place.  The  miles  are  long  to  her 
who  has  been  so  many  days  alternating  between  joy  and 
sadness.    Surely,  she  will  not  be  disappointed  this  time. 

"Old  man,"  Dr.  DeWitt  says^  "?/om  cannot  go 
this  morning.  I  think  it  is  imsafe,  and  it  may  cost 
your  life."  —  "  Pm  going;  I'll  take  the  risTc.  I  cannot 
hear  to  disapjjoint  my  wife  again."  A  stretcher  is 
brought  to  the  side  of  the  mattress  whereon  the 
speaker  lay.  Strong  arms  lift  the  mattress  and  man 
iT^on  it.  When  he  was  carried  on  the  stretcher,  a 
few  days  since,  he  weighed  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
six  pounds,  less  the  blood  he  left  on  the  rocks.  Now 
he  weighs  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  "Lieut. 
Eagan's  compliments,  with  a  request  for  Mr.  Meacham 
to  call  on  him  before  leaving."  The  stretcher  is  car- 
ried into  Lieut.  Eagan's  tent,  and  set  beside  the 
wounded  officer's  cot.  The  salutations  commonly 
given  are  omitted,  or  half  performed.  Eagan  lays  his 
hand  on  Meacham's  arm  and  says,  "  How  do  you  make 
it,  old  man?"  —  "First-rate,  I  guess.  I  am  going 
home.  Are  you  recovering  from  your  wound?"  — 
"Very  fast.  Be  about  in  a  few  days.  Want  to  help 
finish  up  this  job  before  I  go  home."  —  "Good-by, 
Eagan." — "  Good-by,  Meacham." 

These  men  were  old-time  friends,  and  this  parting 
was  suggestive  of  sad  thoughts.  Both  wounded. 
AVill  they  ever  meet  again? 


558 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


As  the  latter  is  being  borne  to  the  shore  of  the 
lake,  a  half  cry  is  heard  from  Tobey.  "  I  see  him, 
Meacham,  one  time  more.  May  be  him  die.  I  no  see 
him  'nother  time."  A  small  white  hull  boat  is  waiting 
in  the  little  bay.  Lieut.  M.  C.  Grier,  A.  A.  Q.  M.,  is 
managing  the  prei:>arations  for  the  departure.  With 
thoughtful  care  every  possible  arrangement  is  made. 
Mattresses,  awnings,  oarsmen,  buckets  for  bailing, 
and  arms  for  defence  are  provided;  and  while  many 
officers  of  the  army  gather  around  the  boat,  the 
wounded  man  is  carried  on  the  stretcher  and  care- 
fully laid  on  a  mattress.  "  Old  Fields  "  is  placed  in 
command.  Dr.  Cabanis  sits  in  the  stern;  the  vet- 
eran beside  the  wounded.  The  departure  is  made 
with  "  God  bless  you  I "  from  the  officers.  A  small 
squad  of  armed  men  are  starting  up  the  lake  shore  to 
prevent  the  possibility  of  the  Modocs  capturing  the 
party  in  the  boat. 

Steadily  the  soldier  oarsmen  pull  along  near  the 
land,  while  the  inveterate  jokers.  Dr.  Cabanis  and 
Capt.  Ferree,  beguile  the  time  in  story-telling  and 
witticisms ;  some  of  them  at  the  expense  of  the  man 
on  the  mattress.  "  Say,  Meacham,  what  will  you  give 
me  not  to  tell  how  much  hrandy  you  drank  the  other 
day  while  you  was  on  the  stretcher  at  the  council 
tent?  It's  all  right  for  you  to  humbug  the  Good 
Templars  by  saying  that  you  never  drink;  but  you 
can't  pull  the  wool  over  my  eyes.  No  man  ever  drank 
a  canteen  full  the  first  drinJcy  as  you  did  that  day;  it 
won't  do,  Meacham." 

Suddenly  a  dark  cloud  moves  up,  and  a  strong 
wind  comes  off  the  shore.  Landing  is  out  of  the 
question;  to  put  to  sea  in  a  white  hall  boat  with  eight 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


559 


men  in  it,  and  nearly  to  the  edge,  is  hazardous.  But 
there  is  no  alternative.  The  prow  cuts  across  the 
waves,  the  water  leaps  over  the  bow.  Fields,  Ferree, 
and  two  of  the  oarsmen,  bail  for  life,  now,  while 
Cabanis  holds  her  head  to  the  sea.  "  Steady,  boys, 
or  we'll  swamp  her,"  says  Fields.  "  Old  man,  jtlo^ying 
dead  won't  save  you  this  time;  if  we  swamp  her  you 
had  better  pray  like  old  Joe  Meek  did.  Promise 
the  Lord  to  be  a  good  man  if  he  will  save  us  this  one 
time  more." — "  Save  the  brandy,  doctor,  we  may  need 
it  if  we  get  out  into  the  water,"  says  Fields,  and  con- 
tinues, "  Steady,  boys,  steady  I    I'll  be if  she 

don't  swamp.  Look  out,  boys,  what  you're  doin'." 
The  waiting  woman  in  the  ambulance  catches  sight 
of  the  boat  as  it  rises  on  the  crest  of  a  wave  and  sinks 
again  into  the  trough  of  the  sea.  Language  is  not 
competent  to  describe  her  emotions  as  she  holds  the 
glass  on  the  threatening  scene  before  her.  One  mo- 
ment, hope,  —  another,  despair;  there,  again,  as  the 
boat  comes  in  sight,  she  thanks  God;  a  moment  more, 
and  prayer  moves  her  lips.  "  Can  it  be  that  he  could 
live  through  all  he  has  suffered  only  to  be  drowned?" 

''  Fear  not,  brave  woman,  the  Hand  that  was  let 
down  out  of  the  dark  cloud  that  passed  over  the 
bloody  scene  when  your  husband  was  in  a  storm  of 
bullets,  will  calm  these  waters.  Your  husband's  work 
is  not  yet  finished! " 

*'  That  was  a  close  call,  boys.  I  tell  you  it  was; 
but  we  are  all  right  now,"  says  old  Fields.  "  They 
are  there  waiting  for  us,"  remarks  Fen*ee.  "  Is  Mrs. 
Meacham  there?  Can  you  see  her? " —  "Yes,  yes,  old 
man;  she  is  there,  standing  in  the  wagon,  looking  at 
us  with  a  glass.    Lay  still,  old  man,  she  is  there. 


0  ill 
■"  M  mil 


560 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


1 


You'll  be  with  her  pretty  soon." — **  Thank  God  I "  goes 
up  from  the  mattress.  "How  far  oflf  are  we  now, 
Fields  V  " — "  'Bout  a  mile.  Be  patient.  Yes,  old  man, 
there's  your  wife,  sure.  She  is  standing  on  the 
ground  now,  looking  through  a  glass.  Be  patient, 
old  man;  I'll  introduce  you  to  her.  She  wouldn't 
know  who  it  was,  —  if  I  didn't  tell  her." 

The  "old  man"  was  wondering  if  it  is  possible; 
shall  I  see  her  again?  Am  I  dreaming?  Is  this  a 
reality?  Won't  I  wake  and  find  it  all  a  delusion? 
Oh,  how  slow  this  boat  I  "  How  far  now?" — "  Only  a 
little  piece;  keep  cool,  you'll  be  there  in  a  few  min- 
utes," quietly  remarks  Fields.  Ferree,  putting  his 
finger  on  his  lips,  nods  and  smiles  at  his  sister. 

That  smile  has  lifted  despair  once  more  from  this 
woman's  heart.  But  a  moment  since  she  had  caught 
sight  of  the  whitened  face  of  her  husband,  so  mo- 
tionless and  pale.  She  felt  a  pain  in  her  heart,  for 
she  thought  him  dead.  Now,  her  brother's  smile  has 
reassured  her;  but  "Why  does  my  husband  lie  so 
still?  "  The  keel  of  the  boat  grinds  on  the  gravelled 
margin  of  the  river.  Fields  jumj)s  ashore,  with  rope 
in  hand.  The  woman  stands  beside  the  ambulance; 
she  does  not  come  to  meet  the  party.  Her  joy  is 
too  great;  she  must  not,  dare  not,  now  express  her 
feeling. 

"AYell,  Orpha,  here's  the  old  man;  he  is  not  very 
pretty,  but  he's  worth  a  dozen  dead  Modocs  yet." 
The  "  old  man "  is  carried  to  the  ambulance,  and 
placed  on  a  mattress,  and  his  wife  sits  beside  him, 
reunited  after  a  separation  of  five  months,  during 
which  time  one  of  them  had  passed  so  close  to  the 


WIOWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


5fi1 


portals  that  death  had  left  the  marks  of  his  icy  fin- 
gers upon  him;   and  the  other  through  a  terrible 
storm  of  grief  and  suspense.     The  driver  mounts  his 
box;    the  veteran  beside  him.      The    escort   mount 
their  horses  and  range  themselves  on  either  side.   The 
Modocs  have  not  been  heard  of  for  several  days  and 
may  be  looking  around  their  old  home  to  waylay  trav- 
ellers.    "Old  Dad  Fields"  calls  his  crew;  Dr.  Cabanis 
cautions  the  driver  about  fast-driving,  and  also  "  the 
old  man  "  about  humbugging  temperance  people.   The 
boat  leaves  the  shore,  the  oars  dip  the  waters.     The 
driver  cracks  his  whip,  and  one  party  is  returning  to 
the  soldiers'  camp;  the  other  is  crowding  forward  to 
Linkville,  half  expecting  to  see  a  blaze    of  rifles 
from    the  sage  bush.      Twenty-five     miles  yet   to- 
night.    Over  all  the  smooth  road  they  go    at  a  gal- 
lop.    At  midnight  a  light  glimmers  in  the  distance. 
It  is  Linkville.     The  moon  is  up,  and  shines  now  on 
thirteen  little  mounds  by  the  roadside,  beneath  which 
sleep   thirteen  men  who  were  killed  by  the  Modocs 
last  [NTovember.  Uncle  George's  nurse  is  waiting  at  the 
hotel  door  to  receive  the  old  man  Meacham  once  more. 
Thank   God  for  big,  noble-hearted  men  like  Uncle 
George  and  his  partner,  Alex.  Miller  1  "  The  old  man  " 
is  sleeping,  but  wakes  up  with  a  start  as  he  has  done 
every  hour  since  the  eleventh  of  April.     The  glaring 
eyes  of  old  Schonchin,  the  horrid  yells,  the  whizzing 
bullets,  all  come  fresh  to  the  brain  when  left  without 
direction  of  his  will.    lie  wakes  with  a  sudden  start 
to  find  himself  in  a  comfortable  room,  a  soft  hand  on 
his  brow;  a  familiar  voice  of  affection  reaches  his  ear, 
and  he  falls  away  to  sleep  again,  soothed  by  the  low 
murmur  of  a  woman's  prayer. 


ij 


i 


CHAPTER     XXXIV. 


AMEN      OUT     OF 


TIME  —  FRIENDLY     ADVICE    FROM    ENE- 
MIES —  BETRAYED. 


Tex  o\locki  Wednesday  morning j  April  22d, 
Mcacham  is  being  transported  to  Fcrree's  ranch  at 
the  south  end  of  the  Klaraatli  'ake  twelve  miles  from 
Linkville.  We  have  been  here  before.  It  was  on 
the  27th  of  December,  1869,  when  conducting  Captain 
Jack's  band  on  to  Klamath  Reservation.  Then 
Captain  Jack  acknowledged  the  authority  of  the  Gov- 
ernment and  was  endeaving  to  be  a  man.  Now  he  is 
an  outlaw.  After  a  stormy  passage  across  Tulc 
lake  last  night,  Fields  and  Dr.  Cabanis  landed  at 
Gilliam's  camp.  The  surgeons  are  visiting  the  hos- 
pitals. Some  of  the  patients  are  improving,  but  on  one 
poor  fellow  we  see  the  signet  of  the  grim  monster. 
The  sunset  gun  to-night  will  not  disturb  him. 

Lieut.  Eagan  is  still  improving.  Fairchild  is  in 
camp,  and  assuring  Gen.  Gilliam  that  as  "  soon  as  the 
Oregon  volunteers  arrive,  the  Modocs  will  throw  down 
their  guns  and  come  right  out  and  surrender;"  Riddle 
and  wife  in  camp  also,  and  assisting  to  care  for  the 
sick.  "Muybridge,"  the  celebrated  landscape  artist, 
of  San  Francisco,  is  here  with  his  instruments,  photo- 
graphing the  "  Lava  Beds,"  the  council  tent,  and  the 
scene  of  the  assassination.  "  Bunker,"  of  the  "  San 
Francisco  Bulletin,"  is  on  the  ground  reporting  for  his 
paper.    **  Bill  Dad,"  with  his  long  hair  floating  in  the 


WiaWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


rm 


wind  and  a  pipe  in  his  mouth,  slipshod  and  sloven,  still 
hovers  around  to  keep  the  readers  of  the  "  Record  " 
posted. 

Gen.  Gilliam  is  consulting  with  his  officers;  they  are 
indignant  at  the  inaction  manifested.  Donald  McKay 
and  his  Warm  Springs  Indians  are  scouting  under  the 
direction  of  army  officers.  Both  Donald  and  his  men 
are  disgusted  with  the  red-tape  way  of  Jiyhtiny 
Modocs. 

Captain  Jack  and  his  people  are  quiet  this  morning. 
They  are  so  closely  hidden  that  even  the  sharp  eyes 
of  Donald  McKay  cannot  discern  their  whereabouts. 
Captain  Jack's  men  are  anxious  to  be  on  the  war- 
path; but  the  chief  restrains  them.  They,  in  turn, 
reproach  him  with  want  of  courage.  He  insists  that 
they  must  act  on  the  defensive.  Bogus,  Boston,  Shack- 
nasty  Jim  and  Hooker  Jim  are  rebellious  and  threaten 
to  desert.  Couriers  are  bearing  despatches  to  Y-re-ka 
announcing  that  "  the  Modocs  cannot  escape.''^ 

A  gun  from  the  deck  of  the  '^  Orifiamme  "  tells  the 
people  of  San  Francisco  of  her  arrival  with  the  remains 
of  Gen.  Canby.  An  immense  concourse  of  citizens 
escort  the  hearse  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  army. 

The  widow  sits  in  a  carriage,  with  unmoistened 
eyes,  while  the  populace  pay  homage  to  the  great 
character  of  her  husband.  The  body  of  Dr.  Thomas 
is  quietly  resting  with  the  dead,  while  he  in  spirit  is 
enjoying  the  glories  of  eternal  life;  his  last  sermon 
preached,  his  trials  over. 

The  three  children  of  Meacham  are  drying  their 
tears,  and  thanking  God  that  they  are  not  fatherless, 
and  fr  r  the  love  of  a  brotherhood  that  brings  to  their 
home  sunshine  m  the  faces  and  words  of  Secretary 


>'M 


5C4 


WIOWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Chadwick  and  Col.  T.  H.  Cann,  who  have  called  this 
morning. 

Away  up  in  Umatilla,  a  young  man,  who  has  been 
bowed  down  with  grief  over  a  second  great  bereave- 
ment, this  morning  reads  to  the  little  orphans  that 
climb  on  his  knees,  and  their  widowed  mother,  the 
telegram  signed  by  Capt.  Ferrce,  announcing  the  re- 
covery of  his  brother.  His  joy  is  unbounded.  A 
great  load  has  been  lifted  from  his  shoulders  and  his 
heart. 

Midway  between  the  oceans  and  near  Solon,  Iowa,  in 
the  sitting-room  of  an  old  homestead,  a  group  is  kneel- 
ing around  a  family  altar.  The  bent  form  of  a  silver- 
haired  man  is  surrounded  by  his  aged  second  wife,  his 
two  living  daughters ;  and  perhaps,  too,  the  invisible 
presence  of  two  daughters  and  two  sons  that  have 
gone  before,  and  thei?'  own  mother,  are  also  there.  His 
voice  is  tremulous  while  he  leads  in  prayer  and  re- 
counts that  half  of  his  family  has  gone  and  half 
remains ;  blesses  God  that  the  dark  sorrow  that  threat- 
ened them  has  passed  away,  and  invokes  Heaven's 
blessings  on  the  living  loved  ones. 

Thursday  morning,  and  we  are  in  a  cabin  at  Ferree's 
ranch.  The  proprietor  enters,  holding  a  letter  in  his 
hand.  "  See  here,  old  man,  I  don't  know  but  what  you 
have  jumped  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire.  How 
does  this  suit  you?'* 


Klamath  Aoenct,  Tlmrsday  morning,  April  23. 
Friend  Fekree: — Be  on  your  guard.    The  Klamath  Indians 
were  in  war  council  last  night.  .  .  .    We  have  sent  our  women 

and  children  to  Fort  Klamath  for  safety 

L.  S.  DYER, 
Agent  Klamath. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATn. 


665 


"That  don't  look  wholesome  for  us,  old  man;  but  you 
are  all  right,  you  can  j)lay  dead  on  'em  again,  and  they 
cavH  sccdp  you  nohow.  "We  are  pretty  well  stock- 
aded and  well  armed.  Wc  can  play  them  a  merry 
string,  if  they  do  come.  If  we  have  to  fight,  why,  you 
can't  do  much,  that's  so,  except  as  old  man  Jones  did 
at  the  camp-meeting  last  year.  He  said  he  couldn't 
jveach,  he  couldn't  pray  mucit,  but  he  could  say  Amen 
as  well  as  anybody;  and  all  through  the  meeting  old 
Father  Jones  was  shouting  'Amenl'  ^A-men!''  until 
they  stopped  the  old  fellow.  Didn't  I  never  tell  you 
about  that?  AVcll,  brother  Congar  was  preaching 
brimstone  pretty  lively,  and  Father  Jones  was  shouting 
Amen  occasionally.  Brother  Congar  was  saying  to  the 
congregation,  '  If  you  don't  repent  and  be  baptized, 
you'll  all  go  to  hell,  shure  as  you're  born.' — 'Amen I 
Thank  God !  —  Amen  I '  shouts  Father  Jones.  Broth- 
er Congar  stops.  '  Father  Jones,  you  didn't  under- 
stand what  I  was  a-sayin.'  —  *"  Yes,  I  guess  I  did,  Bro. 
Congar,  you  told  me  if  we  come  over  here  that,  when- 
ever you  said  anything  powerful  smart,  I  was  to  say 
*  Amen! '  You  said  you  couldn't  preach  worlli  a  cent 
unless  I  did,  and  I've  done  it,  so  I  have.  If  it  aint 
satisfactory,  I  quit  and  go  back  home.'  —  *Amenl' 
shouted  brother  Congar,  and  went  on  with  the  preach- 
ing. ISTow  all  we  will  ask  of  you,  'old  man,'  is  to  say 
*Amen,'  but  don't  act  the  fool  about  it  like  Father 
Jones  did,  that's  all.  We'll  tend  to  administering 
sulphur  in  broken  doses,  if  they  try  to  take  us  in. 
Don't  think  there's  any  danger  though.  Dyer  isn't 
over  the  scare  he  got  in  the  race  with  Iloolcer  Jim 
yet." 

Fnday  morning^  April  24tli.  —  The  army  at  the 


IBI 


566 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


Lava  Beds  is  performing  some  masterly  feats  of  inac- 
tivity that  would  have  been  a  credit  to  Gen.  McClellan 
on  the  peninsula.  The  wild  fowls  that  fly  over  the 
Lava  Beds  look  down  on  the  army  of  a  thousand  re- 
cuperating after  the  big  battle  of  last  week.  Col. 
Miller  is  in  charge  of  Captain  Jack's  stronghold.  The 
Warm  Springs  are  divided  up,  and  assigned  to  duty 
with  the  different  squadrons  of  cavalry.  Quarter- 
master Grier  is  having  a  coffin  n^ade  and  a  grave  pre- 
pared for  a  soldier  that  is  dear  to  somebody  some- 
where, who  is  in  blissful  ignorance  of  his  fate. 

Fer Tee's  HancJi,  Sunday  morning^  April  25,  ^72. — 
A  horseman  arrives,  and,  taking  JFerree  aside,  he  in- 
forms him  that  a  reliable  friendly  Indian  had  come  in 
to  Link\  ille  and  reported  that  it  was  understood  that 
Meacham  had  killed  Schonchin,  and  that  aome  of 
Schonchin's  friends  had  been  to  Yai-nax  —  an  Indian 
station  on  Klamath  Reservation  —  and  learned  that 
Meacham  was  at  Ferree's.  Further,  that  it  was 
thought  advisable  that  he  be  immediately  removed  to 
Linkville,  lest  the  Modocs  siiould  .nake  an  attack  on 
the  ranch,  seeking  revenge  for  the  death  of  Schonchin. 
The  ambulance  is  ordered  out,  and  the  convalescent 
Peace  Commissioner  was  again  on  wheels.  Here  we 
take  leave  of  our  inveterate  joker — the  Iowa  veteran  — 
Capt.  Ferree  leaving  him  to  administer  ^^sal^netre  and 
hlue-pills  "  to  the  red  skins  in  the  event  of  an  attack. 

Lava  Beds,  Gilliarri's  Camp,  Sunday  morning, 
April  26th. — Something  is  to  be  done  to-day.  The 
location  of  the  Modocs  has  been  ascertained  through 
the  efforts  of  the  Warm  Springs  Indian  scouts.  A 
rcconnoissance  of  the  new  stronghold  is  ordered. 
The  detachment  designated  for  tlij.s  purjjosc  consisted 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


56? 


of  sixty-six  white  men  and  fourteen  Warm  Sprinyj*; 
Indians  under  McKay;  the  whole  under  command 
of  Capt.  E.  Thomas  of  4:th  Artillery.  First  Lieut. 
Thomas  "Wright  —  spoken  of  in  this  volume  as  Col. 
Wright  of  Twelth  Infantry,  a  son  of  the  gallant  old 
General  Wright  —  is  of  the  party,  and  in  immediate 
command  of  his  own  and  Lieut.  Eagan's  companies. 

Lieut.  Arthur  Cranston  and  Lieut.  Albion  Howe  of 
Fourth  Artillery,  Lieut.  Harris  also  of  the  Fourth, 
Assistant  Suigecn  B.  Semig,  H.  C.  Tichnor  as  guide, 
Louis  Webber,  chief  packer,  sid  two  assistants;  the 
whole,  exclusive  of  Warm  Springs  scouts,  Beventy- 
six.  I  may  be  pardoned  for  making  more  than  mere 
mention  of  this  expedition  and  the  manner  of  its  organ- 
ization, because  of  its  results;  to  understand  it  fairly, 
it  should  be  stated  that  the  parties  named,  except  the 
Warm  Springs  scouts,  were  all  of  the  army  camp  ai 
the  foot  of  the  bluff,  the  head-quarters  of  Gen. 
Gilliam,  commander  of  the  army  in  the  Modoc  cam- 
paign. 

The  Warm  Springs  scouts  were  encamped  near  the 
old  Modoc  stronghold,  and  had  been  ordered  to 
join  the  command  of  Capt.  '^homa?.*,  while  en  route, 
or  at  the  point  of  destination,  which  was  a  low  butte 
or  mound-like  hill,  on  the  further  side  of  the  Lava 
Beds,  from  the  several  camps.  The  outfit  of  this  re- 
connoitring party,  aside  from  the  men  and  arms,  'jon- 
sisted  of  a  small  train  of  pack  mules.  This  train  of 
packs  was  suggestive.  Tacked  on  to  the  apparalios  — 
pack-saddles  —  were  subsistence  and  medical  stores 
foi"  the  party,  and  also  several  stretchers.  The  object 
of  the  reconnoissance  was  to  ascertain  whether  the 
field-pieces  could  be  planted  so  as  to  command  the 


568 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


new  position  of  the  Modoc  General^  Jack  Kientpoos, 
Shells  had  done  wonderful  execution  in  the  three  days' 
battle,  and,  of  course,  were  the  thing  to  fight  Modocs 
with;  provided,  however,  that  the  fools  of  the  Modoc 
camp  were  not  all  dead;  for  it  is  an  undoubted  fact 
that  out  of  only  two  or  three  hundred  tossed  into  the 
Modoc  stronghold,  one  of  them  had  done  more  execu- 
tion than  all  Vie  bullets  fired  by  the  soldiers  in  the 
three  days. 

Capt.  Thomas  was  instructed,  in  "no  event,  to 
bring  on  an  engagement."  The  point  of  destination 
was  in  full  view  of  the  signal  station  at  Gilliam's 
camp,  and  not  more  than  three  miles  distant.  The 
command  proceeded  with  skirmishes  thrown  out,  and 
proper  caution,  until  theu*  arrival  at  the  foot  of  the 
butte.  The  "Warm  Springs  scouts  had  not  joined 
the  command.  Capt.  Thomas  remarked  that,  since  no 
Indians  were  to  be  seen,  the  command  would  take 
lunch.  Lieut.  Wright  replied,  that  "  when  yoiL  douH 
see  Indians  is  just  the  time  to  be  on  the  look  out  for 
them"  The  sldrmish  guards  were  called  in,  and  the 
whole  command,  except  Lieut.  Cranston  and  twelve 
men,  sat  down  to  bivouac  for  an  hour;  Cranston,  in 
the  mean  time,  remarking  that  he  "  was  going  to  raise 
some  Indians,"  proceeded  to  explore  the  surround- 
ings. In  so  doing  he  passed  entirely  out  of  sight  of 
the  main  party.  The  foot  of  the  butte  is  similar  to 
other  portions  of  the  Lava  Beds,  thrown  into  irregu- 
lar ledges,  or  cut  into  chasms  and  crevices. 

Now  Cranston  has  passed  over  a  ledge,  when 
suddenly  from  the  rqcks,  that  had  been  so  quiet,  a 
volley  of  rifles  opens  on  both  parties.  It  is  not 
known  whether  Cranston  and  his  men  all  fell  on  tlie 


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WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


571 


first  fire;  it  is,  however,  probable  that  he  did  not,  as 
his  remains  were  afterwards  found  several  rods  from 
where  he  was  last  seen  by  the  survivors.  Capt. 
Thomas's  party  were  thrown  into  confusion.  He 
ordered  Lieut.  Harris  to  take  a  position  on  the  hill-side, 
and  when  the  point  was  reached,  Harris  found  that 
the  enemy  was  still  above  him  and  commanding  his 
new  position.  His  men  were  falling  around  him,  and 
he  was  compelled  to  fall  back,  leaving  two  dead  and 
wounded. 

In  making  the  retreat,  Lieut.  Harris  was  mortally 
wounded.  The  scene  that  followed  is  without  a 
precedent  in  Indian  warfare.  Every  commissioned 
officer  was  killed,  except  Surgeon  Semig,  who  was 
wounded;  and  of  the  sixty-six  enlisted  men  but 
twenty-three  reached  head-quarters. 

Donald  Mc  Kay  and  his  scouts  hurried  to  the  scene, 
and  arrived  in  time  to  prevent  the  annihilation  of  the 
entire  party.  That  the  soldiers  were  demoralized  at 
the  suddenness  of  the  attack,  there  is  no  doubt.  It 
seems  to  have  had  an  unusual  combination  of  circum- 
stances attending  the  carnage.  That  Capt.  Thomas 
should  have  permitted  himself  to  be  surprised  by  an 
enemy,  for  whose  destruction  he  was  at  that  time  seek- 
ing a  location  for  the  batteries,  is  strange,  especially 
after  the  warning  suggestions  of  Lieut.  "Wright, 
whose  long  experience  on  the  frontier  —  of  almost  a 
life-time  —  should  have  given  weight  to  his  views. 
Strange,  too,  that  every  officer  should  have  fallen  so 
early  in  the  attack,  and  that  Donald  McKay,  with  his 
Warm  Springs,  should  have  been  thirty  minutes  be- 
hind time,  and  then,  when  coming  to  the  rescue,  should 
have  been  held  off  by  the  fire  of  the  soldiers,  who 


572 


WIGWAM   AND  WAKPATH. 


mistook  him  and  his  men  for  Modocs,  and  compelled 
them  to  remain  out  of  range  so  long  that  the  soldiers 
were  nearly  all  killed  or  wounded  before  Donald  was 
recognized. 

Singular  that  this  butchery  should  have  continued 


three  hours  in  sisrht   of  the 


signal 


station  before 


reinforcements  were  ordered  to  the  rescue.  Indeed, 
it  is  stated  on  good  authority,  that  soldiers  who 
escaped  made  their  way  into  camp  one  or  two  hours 
before  Col.  Green  was  ordered  to  go  to  the  scene 
with  his  command.  Singular,  indeed,  that  fifty-three 
men  were  killed  or  wounded  by  twenty-four  Modocs, 
on  ground  where  the  chances  were  even  for  once,  and 
not  one  of  the  twenty-four  Modocs  was  wounded. 

"What  is  still  more  unaccountable  is,  that  the 
Morlocs  should  have  become  surfeited  with  the 
butchery,  and  desisted  from  satiety,  calling  out  in 
plain  Boston  English,  —  "  All  you  fellows  that  aint 
dead  had  better  go  home.  We  donH  want  to  Jcill  you 
all  in  one  dayJ'^ 

This  speech  was  heard  by  soldiers  who  still  live, 
and  for  the  truth  of  which  abundant  evidence  can  be 
had.  "We  have  it  on  Modoc  authority  that  Scar-face 
Charley  made  this  speech,  and  repeated  it  several  times, 
and  that  he  insisted  that  the  Modocs  should  desist, 
because  his  "  heart  was  sick  seeing  so  much  blood, 
and  so  many  men  lying  dead." 

Follow  the  advancing  wave  of  civilization  from 
ocean  to  ocean,  and  no  parallel  can  be  found  living, 
on  printed  page,  or  tradition's  tongue.  Seventy-six 
well-armed  men,  with  equal  chances  for  cover,  shot 
down  by  a  mere  handful  of  red  men,  until  in  charity 
they  permitted  twenty-three  to  return  to  cam^) ! 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


573 


lO". 


Can  we  understand  how  this  was  done  ?  It  seems 
incredible,  and  yet  it  is  true.  While  we  shudder,  and 
in  our  rage  vow  vengeance  on  the  perpetrators,  we  are 
compelled  to  admit  that  there  was  behind  every 
Modoc  gim  a  man  who  was  far  above  his  white 
brother  in  fighting  qualities.  Much  as  we  are  in- 
clined to  underrate  the  red  man,  we  are  forced  to 
admit  that  twenty-four  men  leaving  a  stronghold,  and 
going  out  among  rocks  that  gave  even  chances 
against  them,  was  an  act  of  heroism  that  if  performed 
by  w^hite  men  would  have  immortalized  every  name, 
and  inscribed  them  among  the  bravest  and  most  suc- 
cessful warriors  that  this  country  has  produced. 
Performed  by  a  band  of  red-handed  Indians,  it  is 
scarcely  worthy  of  mention.  While  we  do  most 
empliatically  condemn  all  acts  of  treachery,  no  matter 
by  whom  committed,  we  are  not  insensible  to  emotions 
of  admiration  for  acts  of  bravery,  no  matter  by  whom 
performed.  In  speaking  of  this  battle  Gen.  Jeflf.  C. 
Davis  says,  "  It  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  disas- 
trous aflfairs  our  army  has  had  to  record.  Its  effects 
were  very  visible  upon  the  morale  of  the  command, 
so  much  so  that  I  deemed  it  imprudent  to  order 
the  aggressive  movements  it  was  my  desire  and 
intention  to  make  at  once  upon  my  arrival,  in  ordor 
to  watch  the  movements  of  the  Indians." 

What,  is  it  so,  that  with  all  the  slaughter  reported 
from  time  to  time.  Captain  Jack  still  has  men 
enough  left  to  cause  an  army  of  one  thousand  to  wait 
for  recuperation  and  reinforcements  before  again  at- 
tacking him? 

This  battle  was  fought  on  the  26th  of  April,  ten 
days  after  the  three  days'  battle.     Curious  that  "  the 


ill  ■;■'■' tPSi 

j"  ■'  i'.      -.Ma  IIS 


574 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


press/'  or  that  portion  of  it  that  was  so  loud  in  de- 
nunciation of  the  Peace  Commissioners,  did  not  find 
fault,  and  enter  ^^protesV^  against  the  delay.  The 
commission  has  been  "  out  of  the  way  "  since  the  11th 
inst.,  and  three  days'  battle  has  been  fought,  and  one 
day's  slaughter  withstood,  and  it  has  not  cost  much 
over  half  a  hundred  lives,  that  were  required  to  satisfy 
the  clamor  for  vengeance,  and  now  why  not  raise 
your  trumpet  notes  again,  brave  editors,  and  a  pro- 
portionate howl  for  vengeance?  You  are  safely 
seated  behind  your  thrones,  where  no  shot  could 
reach  you. 

Why  don't  you  howl  with  rage  because  a  few  "  cut- 
throats "  have  murdered  ten  per  cent,  of  an  army  of  a 
thousand, "  wAo  were  liired  to  fight  and  die  if  need  he  "? 
You  did  not  want  peace  except  "  through  war.^^  You 
have  done  your  part  to  secure  the  shedding  of  blood. 
Are  you  satisfied  now  when,  through  the  failure  of  the 
Peace  Commission,  so  many  men  have  yielded  up  their 
lives?  This  short  apostrophe  is  intended  for  those 
who  appropriate  it;  not  for  the  really  brave  editors 
who  were  fearless  enough  to  defend  "  The  humane 
policy  of  the  President  and  Secretary  Delano,''  in  the 
face  of  a  clamor  that  filled  the  country  from  tlie  1st 
of  February  to  the  11th  of  April  1873. 


BATTLE   OP  DRY  LAKE. 


Morning  of  the  10th,  of  May,  1873.  —  Fourteen 
days  have  passed,  and  Gen.Canby  has  been  placed  in  his 
tomb,  Indianapolis,  Indiana.  The  widow,  grief-stricken 
and  heart-broken,  is  with  her  friends.  Orderly  Scott 
has  been  ordered  to  report  at  Louisville,  Kentucky; 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


575 


Adjutant  Anderson,  to  head-quarters,  Department 
Columbia.  The  emblems  of  mourning  arc  every- 
where visible  around  the  home  of  Dr.  Thomas. 
Meacham  is  at  his  home  in  Salem,  Oregon,  recovering 
rapidly,  and  with  a  heart  full  of  gratitude  and  kindly 
feelings  to  Dr.  Calvin  DeWitt,  U.  S.  A.,  who  brought 
him  safely  through  the  hospital  at  the  Lava  Beds. 
The  mother  of  Lieut.  Harris  is  sitting  beside  her 
wounded  son,  in  the  hospital  at  Gil  lam's  Camp.  Gen. 
Jeflf.  C.  Davis  has  assumed  command  of  the  expedition 
against  the  Modocs.  Captain  Jack  and  his  people 
have  left  the  Lava  Beds.    Dissensions  are  of  every- 


day  occurrence 


among  them. 


Bogus  and  Hooker 


Jim,  Shacknasty,  and  "  Ellen's  man  "  are  contentious 
and  quarrelsome. 

Read  the  telegram  of  Jeff.  C.  Davis  to  Gen.  Scho- 
field,  and  we  may  know  something  of  what  has 
occurred:  — 

Hbad*qcabter8  in  thb  Field,  Tule  Lake,  Cal.,  May  8,  1878. 
I  sent  two  friendly  squaws  intotha  Lava  Beds  daybolore  yester- 
day ;  they  returned  yesterday,  having  found  the  bodies  of  Lieuten- 
ant Cranston  and  partj',  but  no  Indians.  Last  night  I  sent  the 
Warm  Springs  Indians  out.  They  find  that  the  Modocs  have  gone 
in  a  southeasterly  direction.  This  is  also  confirmed  by  the  attack 
and  capture  of  a  train  of  four  wagons  and  fifteen  animals  yesterday 
P.  M.  near  Supply  Camp,  on  east  side  of  Tule  lake.  The  Modocs 
in  this  party  reported  fifteen  or  twenty  in  number ;  escort  to  train 
about  the  same  ;  escort  whipped,  with  three  wounded.  No  Indians 
known  to  have  been  killed.  I  will  put  the  troops  in  search  of 
the  Indians  with  five  days'  rations. 

JEFF.  C.  DAVIS, 
Col.  Twenty-Third  Infantry,  Com.  De^. 

In  his  final  report,  Nov.  1st,  1853,  he  says :  —  .    . 


,if'!ii'3 


9h 


576 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


Hasbrouck's  and  Jackson's  companies,  with  tlio  "Warm  Springs 
Indians,  all  under  command  of  the  former,  were  immediately  sent 
out  in  pursuit,  and  signs  of  Indians  were  found  near  Sorass  lake, 
where  the  troops  camped  for  the  night.  One  the  morning  of  the 
10th  the  Indians  attacked  the  troops  at  daylight ;  they  were  not 
fully  prepared  for  it,  but  at  once  sprang  to  their  anris,  and  returned 
the  fire  in  gallant  style.  The  Indians  soon  broke  and  retreated  in 
the  direction  of  the  Lava  Beds.  They  contested  the  ground  with 
the  troops  hotly  for  some  three  miles. 

The  object  of  this  hasty  movement  of  the  troops  was  to  overhaul 
the  Indians,  if  out  of  the  Lava  Beds,  as  reported,  and  prevent  them 
from  murdering  settlers  in  their  probable  retreat  to  another  locality. 
This  object  was  obtained,  and  more.  The  troops  have  had,  all 
things  considered,  a  very  square  fight,  and  whipped  the  Modocs  for 
the  first  time.  But  the  whole  band  was  -jain  in  the  rocky  strong- 
hold.    .    .     . 


Gen.  Davis  does  not  state  all  the  facts  in  the  case. 
While  it  is  generally  admitted  that  Captain  Jack 
was  whijyped  this  iimCj  it  is  also  true  that  Donald 
McKay  and  his  Wann  Springs  Indian  boys  turn  up 
at  the  right  time  again  and  assist  in  driving  the 
Modocs  three  miles,  recapturing  the  horses  that  were 
taken  from  the  escort  a  few  days  since.  Two  Warm 
Springs  scouts  were  killed  in  this  fight,  but  their 
names  have  never  heen  reijorted. 

Captain  Jack  appears  in  this  fight  in  Gen.  Canby's 
uniform.  One  Modoc  was  certainly  killed  this  morn- 
ing, because  his  hody  was  captured.  There  can  be 
no  mistake ;  several  persons  saw  it  with  their  naked 
eyes,  —  so  they  did,  oh  I  This  Modoc,  whose  name  was 
George,  "Ellen's  man,"  was  Captain  Jack's  assistant  in 
the  murder  v  f  Gen.  Canbj'.  His  death  was  the  signal  for 
new  quarrels  among  the  Modocs,  which  ultimated  in 
the  division  of  the  band,  and  made  it  possible  for  the 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


677 


thousand  mon  to  whip  the  remainder.  The  seceding 
Modocs,  who  are  double-dyed  traitors,  were  Bogus 
Charley,  Iloolcer  Jim,  ShacTcnasty  Jim,  Steamboat 
Frank,  and  ten  othei's,  mostly  Hot  Creek  Indians, 
and  the  same,  except  Hooker  Jim,  who  were  driven 
back  to  the  Lava  Beds  after  they  had  started  under 
escort  of  Fairchild  and  Dorris  to  the  Klamath  Reser- 
vation, last  December,  ten  days  after  the  Lost-river 
battle,  by  the  howl  fo:  blood  that  came  up  from  every 
quarter.  At  that  time  they  had  committed  no  crimes; 
had  not  been  in  battle  or  butchery.  After  joining 
Captain  Jack  they  had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  mur- 
derers who  killed  the  Lost-river  settlers.  They  were 
net  indicted,  and  had  less  excuse  than  any  other  Mo- 
docs. Their  home  in  "  Hot  Creek "  was  several 
miles  from  any  scene  of  slaughter  on  either  side. 
They  had  steadily  opposed  every  peace  measure 
offered,  while  Bogus  had  played  his  part  so  well  that 
he  was  the  favorite  of  the  army  officers,  and  had 
friends  among  the  white  citizens ;  he  had  instigated 
the  assassination  of  the  Peace  Commissioners,  laid 
the  plans,  and  even  slept  in  the  camp  of  Gen.  Canby, 
and  ate  his  breakfast  off  the  general's  table,  and  to 
his  friend  Fairchild  declared,  even  after  Canb}^  and 
Thomas  had  started  for  the  Lava  Beds,  that  there  was 
no  intention  of  killing  the  Peace  CommissiouLi  s. 

The  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  these  men  and 
Captain  Jack  was  the  fact  that  the  few  deaths  that 
had  occurred  among  the  Modocs  had  been  of  those 
who  did  not  belong  to  Jack's  immediate  family  or 
band.  They  accused  him  of  placing  the  outside  In- 
dians—  Hot  Creek  and  Cum-ba-twas  warriors  —  in 
the  front  of  the  battles. 


i 


578 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH, 


He  replied  that  they  had  voted  every  time  for  war 
and  against  peace  proposals.  The  quaiTel  increased, 
and  after  the  defeat  at  Dry  Lake,  Captain  Jack  rebn.ked 
them  for  forcing  the  band  into  that  fight  again'jt  their 
will.  The  death  of  "Ellen's  man  "  brought  the  crisis. 
We  see  the  band  who  started  into  the  war  with  fifty- 
three  braves,  after  having  accomplished  more  than  any 
band  of  an  equal  or  proportionate  number  of  men,  of 
any  race  or  color,  in  any  age  or  country,  quarrelling 
among  themselves,  now  divided  into  two  parties;  one 
of  whom,  with  fourteen  men,  every  one  of  whom  had 
voted  for  war,  turning  traitor  to  his  chief,  and  oflfering 
themselves  as  scouts  against  him  without  promise  of 
amnesty  or  other  reward.  Such  perfidy  s^'^nds  un- 
paralleled, and  alone^  as  an  act  that  has  nc  ^cedent 
to  compare  it  with.  The  succeeding  events  are 
clearly  told  in  Gen.  Davis'  report. 


The  chief  could  no  longer  keep  his  warriors  up  to  the  work  re- 
quired of  them,  lying  on  their  arms  night  and  day,  and  watching 
for  an  attack.  These  exactions  were  so  great,  and  the  conduct  of 
the  leader  so  tyrannical,  that  insubordination  sprang  up,  which  led 
to  dissensions,  and  the  final  separation  of  the  band  into  two  parties ; 
they  left  the  Lava  Beds  bitter  enemies.  The  troops  soon  discovered 
their  departure,  and  were  sent  in  pursuit.  Their  trails  were  found 
leading  in  a  westerly  direction,  llasbrouck's  command  of  cavalry, 
after  a  hard  march  of  some  fifty  miles,  came  upon  the  Cottonwood 
band,  and  had  a  sharp  running  fight  of  seven  or  eight  miles.  The 
Indians  scattered,  in  order  to  avoid  death  or  capture.  The  cavalry 
horses  were  completely  exhausted  in  the  chase,  and  night  coming 
on  he  withdrew  liis  troops  a  few  miles'  distance  to  Fairchild's  ranch 
for  food  and  forage. 

Indians  captured  in  this  engagement  expressed  the  belief  that 
this  band  would  like  to  give  themselves  up  if  opportunity  were 
offered.    When  given  this,  through  the  medium  of  friendly  Indians, 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


579 


they  made  an  effort  to  obtain  terms,  but  I  at  once  refUsed  to  enter- 
tain anytliing  of  the  Itind  ;  they  could  only  be  allowed  safe-conduct 
through  the  camp  to  ray  head-quarters  when  they  arrived  at  the 
picket-line.  They  came  in  on  the  22d  of  May,  and  laid  down  their 
arms,  accompanied  by  their  old  women  and  children,  about  seventy- 
five. 

To  learn  the  exact  whereabouts  of  the  Indians  was  now  very 
important,  and  I  determined  to  accept  of  the  offered  services  of  a 
Modoc  captive  ;  one  who,  up  to  the  time  of  their  separation,  was 
known  to  be  in  the  confidence  of  his  chief,  and  could  lead  us  to  the 
hiding-place  of  the  band.  He  was  an  unmitigated  cut-throat,  and 
for  this  reason  I  was  loth  to  make  any  use  of  him  that  would 
compromise  his  well-earned  claims  to  the  halter.  He  desired  eight 
others  to  accompany  and  support  him,  under  the  belief  his  chief 
would  kill  him  on  sight ;  but  three  otlmrs  only  were  accepted,  and 
these  of  the  least  guilty  ones.  The}'  were  promised  no  rewards  for 
this  service  whatever.  Believing  the  end  justified  the  means,  I  sent 
them  out,  thoroughly  armed  for  the  service. 

After  nearly  three  days'  hunting  they  came  upon  Jack's  camp 
on  Willow  creek,  east  of  "Wright  lake,  fifteen  miles  from  Apple- 
gate's  ranch,  to  which  I  had  gone,  after  separation  from  them  at 
Tule  lake,  to  await  their  return  and  the  arrival  of  the  cavalry. 

The  scoutjs  reported  a  stormy  interview  with  their  angry  chief. 
He  denounced  them  in  severe  terms  for  leaving  him ;  he  intended 
to  die  with  his  gun  in  his  hand ;  they  were  squaws,  not  men.  He 
intended  to  jump  Applegate's  ranch  that  night  (the  28th),  etc. 

On  the  return  of  these  scouts,  I  immediately  sent  Capt.  E.  V. 
Sumner,  aide-de-camp,  back  to  the  rendezvous,  at  Tule  lake,  with 
orders  to  push  forward  Capts.  H.  C.  Hasbrouck's  and  James  Jack- 
son's commands  to  Applegate's  ranch,  with  rations  for  three  days 
in  haversacks,  and  pack-mules  with  ten  days'  supply.  All  arrived 
and  reported  by  nine  o'clock  A.  M. ,  the  29th,  under  command  of  Maj. 
John  Green,  their  veteran  cavalry  leader  Hince  the  commencement 
of  the  Modoc  war,  in  excellent  spirits.  The  impenetrable  rocky 
region  was  behind  them  ;  the  desperado  and  his  band  were  ahead 
of  them,  in  comparatively  an  open  countrj'. 

After  allowing  the  animals  an  hour's  rest  the  pursuit  was  re- 
newed, and  about  one  o'clock  P.  M.  Jack  and  band  were  "jumped" 
on  Willow  creek  near  its  crossing  with  the  old  emigrant  road.    This 


mm 


■  u 


580 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


stream  forms  the  head- waters  of  Lost  river.  It  was  a  complete 
surprise.  The  Indians  fled  in  the  direction  of  Langell  valley. 
The  pursuit  from  this  time  on,  until  the  final  captures,  June  3d, 
partook  more  of  a  chase  after  wild  beasts  than  war  ;  each  detach- 
ment v;,  ing  with  each  other  as  t<:  which  should  be  first  in  at  the  finish. 

Lieut.  Col.  Frank  Wheaton,  Twenty-fii'st  Infantry,  reported 
to  me,  in  compliance  witu  uis  orders,  from  Camp  Warner,  on  the 
22d,  at  Fairchild's  ranch.  He  was  placed  in  command  of  the  Dis- 
trict of  the  Lakes,  and  the  troops  composing  the  Modoc  expedition. 

After  making  necessary  disposition  of  the  foot  troops  and  cap- 
tives at  Fairchild's  ranch,  he  came  forward  to  Clear  lake,  and 
joined  mo  at  Applegate's  with  Perry's  detachment  of  cavalry ; 
these  troops  were  at  once  sent  to  join  the  hunt.  Most  of  the  band 
had  by  this  time  been  run  down  and  captured  ;  but  the  chief  and  a 
few  of  his  most  noted  warriors  were  still  running  in  every  direction. 

It  fell  to  the  lot  of  these  troopers  to  catch  Jack.  When  sur- 
rounded and  captured  he  said  his  '  legs  had  given  out."  Two  or 
three  other  warriors  gave  themselves  up  with  him. 

Though  called  for,  no  reports  have  been  received  of  these 
operations  from  the  u'fferent  detachment  commanders ;  hence 
details  cannot  be  given. 

As  soon  as  the  captives  were  brought  in,  directions  were  given 
to  concentrate  the  troops,  and  all  captives,  etc.,  at  Boyle's  camp 
on  Tule  lake.  There  the  Oregon  volunteers,  who  had  been  called 
into  the  field  by  the  governor,  turned  over  a  few  captives  they  had 
taken  over  on  their  side  of  the  line.  It  is  proper  to  mention,  in  this 
connection,  that  these  volunteers  were  not  under  my  command. 
They  conf.  led  their  operations  to  protecting  the  citizens  of  their 
own  State.  Yet  on  several  occasions  they  oflered  their  services  in- 
formally to  report  to  me  for  duty  in  case  I  needed  them.  No  emer- 
gency arose  requiring  me  to  call  upon  them. 

By  the  5th  of  June  the  whole  band,  with  a  few  unimportant 
exceptions,  had  been  captured,  and  was  asseinbled  in  our  camp  on 
Tule  lake,  when  I  received  orders  from  the  General  of  the  Army 
to  hold  them  under  guard  until  further  instructions  as  to  what  dis- 
position wo'ild  be  made  of  them.  It  was  my  intention  to  execute 
Liome  eight  or  ten  of  the  ringleaders  of  the  band  on  the  spot ;  these 
orders,  however,  relieved  me  of  this  stem  duty,  —  a  duty  imposed 
upjn  mt;  as  I  believed,  by  the  t,pirit  of  the  orders  issued  for  the 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


581 


guid'ince  of  the  commander  of  the  Modoc  expedition,  immediately 
after  the  murder  of  the  Peace  Commissioners ;  as  well  as  by  the 
requirements  of  the  case,  judging  from  my  stand-point  of  view,  a 
commander  in  the  field.  I  was  glad  to  be  relieved  from  this  grave 
responsibility.  I  only  regretted  not  being  better  informed  of  the 
intentions  of  the  authorities  at  Washington,  in  regard  to  these 
prisoners  after  capture.  In  accordance  with  instructions,  as  soon 
as  the  attorney-general's  decision  was  received,  I  ordered  a  mili- 
tary commission  for  their  trial,  and  with  that  view  moved  them  to 
Fort  Klamath,  as  a  more  suitable  place  to  guard  and  try  them. 
Six  were  tried  and  convicted  of  murder ;  four  have  been  executed ; 
two  have  had  their  sentences  commuted  to  imprisonmeat  for  life  by 
the  President. 

A  few  da3'3  after  these  executions  took  place  at  Fort  Klamath, 
on  the  3d  ultimo,  the  remainder  of  the  band  was  started  to  their  new 
homes  in  W3'oming  territory  ;  they  are  probably  there  by  this  time. 
The  number  of  officers  killed  in  this  expedition  is  eight; 
wounded,  three  ;  total,  eleven.  Enlisted  men  killed,  thirty-nine  ; 
woundt  1,  sixt3'-one  ;  total,  one  hundred.  Citizens  killed,  sixteen  ; 
wounded,  one ;  total,  seventeen.  "Warm  Springs  Indian  scouts 
killed,  two ;  wounded,  two ;  total,  four.  Grand  total,  killed  and 
wounded,  one  hundred  and  thirty-two.  A  largp  number  of  the 
killed  were  murdered  after  being  wounded  and  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Indians.  (See  accompanying  list  of  killed  and 
wounded,  marked  D.) 

During  the  Modoc  excitement  many  of  the  Indian  tribes  of 
Oregon,  Idaho,  and  Washington  territory  showed  a  very  discontented 
feeling,  and  strong  sympathies  with  the  hostile  tribe.  The  set- 
tlers seemed  much  alarmed  in  some  localities.  To  meet  this  state 
of  affairs  I  thought  it  best  to  organize  as  large  a  for  o  as  practi- 
cable, and  make  a  tour  through  the  country'  en  row.',  to  the  proper 
stations  of  the  troops.  The  march  was  made  through  Eastern 
Oregon  and  Washington  territory  ;  it  was  about  six  hundred  miles. 
The  cavalry  was  commanded  by  Maj.  John  Green,  the  foot-troops 
by  Maj.  E.  C.  Mason.  The  march  was  well  conducted  hy  these 
commanders,  and  well  perfonncd  by  the  troops.  I  was  gratified  to 
see  that  with  the  capture  of  the  Modoc  band  the  excitement 
ceased.  All  the  tribes  throughout  the  department  are  now  per- 
fectly quiet. 


UIIB 


/It  *ij 


i| 


I  '1 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 


h^i 


LAST  HIDING-PLACE  —  HANGING-MACHINE  UNTRIED  —  MODOC 
BUTCHERS  OUTDONE. 

For  an  account  of  the  immediate  circumstances  at- 
tending the  final  surrender  of  the  Modoc  chi<f'ftain.  I 
subjoin  the  following  from  the  pen  of  iSamucl  A. 
Clarke^  of  Salem,  Oregon,  who  was  on  tl  e  ground,  and 
had  abundant  opportunity  to  learn  the  facts  and  inci- 
dents connected  therewith.  He  was  correspondent 
for  the  "New  York  Times,"  from  which  paper  of 
June  17, 1873,  this  graphic  account  of  one  of  the  most 
importact  events  of  1873  is  taken:  — 


Botle's  Camp,  Tdlk  Lake,  Modoc  Country, 

Tuesday,  June  3,  1873. 

The  Modoc  campaign  is  considered  at  an  end.  The  eight  or  ten 
of  tlie  lately  hostile  band  who  have  not  been  captured  dare  not 
commit  any  depredations,  and  efforts  are  being  made  to  secure  them 
without  further  contest.  It  remains  to  sum  up  the  last  few  days, 
and  present  the  facts  of  the  capture  of  Captain  Jack  and  his  band, 
and  I  am  now  prepared  to  give  a  full  and  comf  lete  statement  of 
the  closing  movments  of  the  campaign. 

The  beginning  of  the  end  was  when  Bogus  Charley  and  his  band 
of  Cottonwoods  and  Hot  Springs  Indians,  which  means  those 
who  were  brought  up  in  the  vicinity  of  Dorris'  and  Fairchild's 
ranches,  which  are  on  the  creeks  so  called,  came  in  and  surren- 
dered, about  two  weeks  ago.  The  attempt  made  to  surprise  the 
train  and  camp  at  Sorass  lake,  over  three  weeks  ago,  was  a  failure, 
and  though  the  Indians  inflicted  some  damage,  they  still  suflTered 
defeat,  being  driven  off  with  the  loss  of  most  of  their  own  horses 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


583 


and  their  loads.  This  discouraged  them,  and  disaffection  took 
place.  The  troops  followed  them  up  persistently ;  many  who  had 
supported  the  war  with  reluctance  complained  of  their  fate ;  bick- 
erings led  to  separation,  and  Captain  Jack  was  left  with  scarce 
more  than  half  his  force  to  carrj'  on  the  desperate  struggle  as  he 
could. 

I  have  described  the  manner  of  the  campaign  in  for  oier  letters, 
and  told  how  three  squadrons  of  cavalry  and  artillery  mounted, 
accompanied  by  detachments  of  "Warm  Springs  Indians,  have  been 
put  in  the  field.  Then  came  the  startling  proposition  from  Bogus 
Charley,  Steamboat  Frank,  Hooktr  Jim,  and  Shacknasty  Jim,  that 
they  would  join  the  troops  and  act  as  guides,  and  lead  them  to 
Captain  Jack.  They  gave  it  as  their  oninion  that  Jack  and  his 
men  would  be  either  at  Willow  creek,  in  " '.e  caiion  east  of  Clear 
lake,  or  at  Cayote  Springs,  south-east,  of  luere,  or  at  a  place  ten 
miles  from  Boiling  Springs,  on  Pitt  river,  hard  to  find  and  easily 
defended  ;  or,  fourth,  at  a  canon  near  Goose  lake,  much  further 
off,  on  the  very  verge  of  Modoc  territor3%  They  inclined  to  the 
opinion  that  he  was  at  Willow  creek,  because  it  is  a  strong  natural 
position,  and  in  a  good  neighborhood  for  a  supply  of  roots,  herbs, 
game,  and  fish ;  and  the  result  proved  that  their  first  surmise  was 
correct. 

General  Davis  and  a  squad  of  v^avnlry  left  with  tiiem  tight  days 
ago,  and  proceeded  to  Boj'le's  camp,  east  and  sr  h  of  the  ■  .ava 
Beds,  whence  the  four  renegades  proceeded  on  their  way  Tuesday, 
a  week  ago,  to  hunt  for  the  Modoc  trail.  They  were  entirely  suc- 
cessful, and  returned  the  next  day  with  an  interesting  account  of 
their  expedition.  Striking  out  south  of  Tule  and  Clear  lakes, 
they  found  and  followed  the  trail  to  Willow  creek  canon,  fifteen 
miles  east  of  Applegate's  ranch  on  Clear  lake.  As  they  ap- 
proadied  they  found  Modoc  pickets  out  four  miles  in  advance  ;  the 
pickets  went  with  them  to  within  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the 
Modoc  camp,  and  the  Modoc  warriors,  twenty-four  in  all,  came 
out  and  formed  a  line.  Jack  ordered  the  spies  to  give  up  their 
guns  ;  but  they  refused  to  do  so,  and  retained  their  guns  in  their 
hands  during  all  the  talk  that  followed.  The  Modocs  wanted  to 
know  what  they  came  for,  and  who  sent  them ;  they  recognized 
that  they  rode  Fairchild's  horses,  and  wanted  to  know  how  that 
came.    The  four  Peace  Commissioners  gave  for  answer  the  precise 


1  w 


584 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


facts  that  bad  occurred  ;  stated  the  fact  of  the  surrender  of  Fair- 
child's  place,  of  all  the  Cottonwoods,  and  the  way  they  had  been 
treated,  and  advised  them  all  to  give  up  the  war  and  do  the  same. 

At  that  point  Bogus  Charley  and  his  comrades  wanted  to  have  a 
free  talk  with  their  old  friends,  but  Captain  Jack  forbade  it.  He 
said  he  would  never  surrender  ;  he  didn't  want  to  be  hung  like  a 
woman,  without  resistance,  but  was  determined  to  die  fighting  with 
his  gun  in  his  hand,  as  a  warrior  should.  He  told  them  not  to  talk 
any  more  about  surrender,  to  go  back  to  the  whites  and  stay  with 
them  if  they  wanted  to,  but  never  to  come  back  to  him  again,  for 
if  they  did  he  w  Aild  certainly  kill  them.  He  wanted  to  receive 
no  more  messages  and  hear  no  more  talk. 

But  Jack's  power  was  evidcntl}'  on  the  wane  ;  he  was  no  longer 
a  dictator,  with  unlimited  confidence  and  authority.  Scar-faced 
Charley  and  some  of  the  rest  ver}'  deliberately  declared  thej'  would 
talk  ;  they  told  Bogus  they  were  tired  of  fighting,  and  didn't  want 
to  be  driven  around  all  the  time,  afraid  of  their  lives,  and  obliged 
to  live  like  dogs.  They  complained  bitterly  of  their  hardships  and 
povert}',  and  that  they  could  not  see  their  friends  as  of  old  time. 
Bogus  told  them  that  the  soldiers  and  Warm  Springs  Indians  were 
coming  right  after  them ;  that  Gen.  Davis  had  ordered  them  to 
hunt  the  Modocs  down,  and  they  would  do  so.  Then  they  wanted 
to  know  when  the  soldiers  would  come ;  the  answer  was,  at  any 
place  and  at  anj-^  moment.  Some  of  them  bitterly  asked  if  they 
four  were  intending  to  bring  the  soldiers  there  ;  but  Bogus  evaded 
that  b}'  saying  the  soldiers  would  come  anyhow.  Despite  Jack'«i 
command,  and  his  refusal  to  talk,  the  four  spies  had  a  long,  free 
conversation  with  their  old  associates,  and  the  result  was  togreatl}' 
increase  the  demoralization  existing  i  u  their  ranks.  The  talk  ended 
without  any  promise  being  made,  and  the  four  spies  returned  the 
next  afternoon,  and  were  intercepted  at  Applcgate's  ranch,  on 
Clear  lake,  Gen.  Davis  having  in  the  mean  time  removed  to  that 
place.  The  spies  were  detained  there,  and  word  was  sent  to  liave 
the  troops  immediately  move,  and  the  next  morning  (Thursday) , 
at  daybreak,  they  were  in  motion,  bound  for  the  last  Modoc 
stronghold. 

The  Modoc  spies  seem  to  Lave  acted  in  the  most  perfect  good 
faith.  Thej',  with  Fairchild  in  company,  went  with  the  trooi)S, 
which  were  under  command  of  Col.  Green,  and  led  them  directly 


WIGWA3I  AND   WARPATH. 


585 


to  the  place,  warning  them  as  they  drew  near  that  they  might  be 
ambushed,  and  advising  ever}''  necessary  precaution.  .  The  troops, 
in  three  squadrons,  each  with  a  detachment  of  Warm  Springs  In- 
dians, moved  to  within  three  miles  of  the  Modoc  camp  about  eleven 
o'clock  Thursday  morning,  and  were  then  divided.  Hasbrouck  and 
his  command,  guided  by  Hooker  Jim,  taking  the  north  side  of  the 
canon ;  Col.  Green  and  the  remaining  force,  with  Steamboat  F.ank 
as  their  guide,  going  on  the  south  side ;  Fairchild  and  the  other  two 
spies  being  in  company.  The  Modocs  seem  not  to  have  dreamed 
that  the  troops  could  reach  them  so  soon,  and  had  no  strict  watch 
out.  No  one  was  seen  until  within  less  than  a  mile  of  Jack's  cen- 
tre, when  the  troops  ran  on  four  Modoc  sentinels.  Frank  gave 
advice  to  surround  the  camp  by  sending  men  around  and  over  a 
little  mountain,  and,  this  being  done,  a  march  was  ordered  and  the 
Warru  Springs  got  within  three  hundred  yards  of  three  Modocs, 
who  hallooed  not  to  shoot,  and  wanted  to  know  what  they  were 
bringing  so  many  men  there  for ;  they  wanted  to  talk.  Fairchild 
and  the  Modoc  guides  were  sent  for,  and  a  talk  had.  Boston 
Charley  came  over  to  see  Fairchild,  and  laid  his  gun  down ;  the 
Warm  Springs  Indians  all  laid  their  guns  down,  and  came  over  and 
shook  hands  with  him  in  the  most  amicable  manner.  Movements 
were  stopped  to  give  opportunity  for  the  surrender  of  the  band,  and 
a  talk  was  progressing,  when  an  unfortunate  accident  made  the 
Modocs  scatter  in  apprehension.  Modoc  Frank,  one  of  the  guides, 
happened  to  have  his  gun  accidentally  discharged  by  the  hammer 
catching  as  he  turned  his  horse.  The  Modocs  evidently  supposed 
that  Boston  Charley,  who  had  been  sent  to  talk,  had  been  shot, 
and  that  caused  a  stampede,  and  prevented  the  surrender  that 
evening.  Boston  s-iid  they  all  wanted  to  quit  the  fight,  and  he  was 
told  to  go  back  and  tell  them  all  to  come  in  and  lay  down  their 
arms.  "While  he  was  attempting  to  do  this,  Ilasbrouck's  men  closed 
up  on  the  other  side  and  made  him  prisoner,  not  knowing  the  errand 
be  was  engaged  on.  Donald  McKay  sent  word  over  to  let  him  go 
free,  as  the  Indians  wanted  to  come  in  ;  but  Boston  had  been  delayed 
an  hour  and  a  half,  and  he  came  back  at  dark  with  word  that  the 
Indians  had  all  run  away,  except  seven  squaws,  including  Captain 
Jack's  sister  and  some  children,  who  were  captured. 

At  early  day,  on  Friday,  the  troops  moved  up  each  side  of  the 
cailon,  skirmishing  for  three  miles,  when  scouts  came  in  and  rc- 


jij   ■■i^i.jiiSl 


i';ip| 


586 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


ported  that  the  trail  led  off  north,  toward  Gainox,  and  laid  on  high 
ground,  where  it  was  difficult  to  track.  The  troops  followed  it 
until  noon,  when  they  struck  Langell's  valley  in  twelve  miles.  The 
Modocs  were  in  scattered  bands.  About  one  o'clock  Fairchild,  the 
Modoc  guide,  and  some  Warm  Springs  Indians  struck  a  plain  trail, 
and  followed  it  for  about  six  miles  north-cast,  and  discovered  three 
bucks  ahead,  who  called  back  and  then  ran  away.  They  were 
headed  off,  and  ran  down  into  a  canon  and  hid.  During  the  day 
thirteen  bucks  and  a  number  of  women  got  into  the  same  canon, 
and  were  discovered  by  the  Warm  Springs  Indians.  A  few  shots 
were  fired  by  Captain  Jack  himself,  but  it  was  thought  that  he 
didn't  try  to  hit  anybod}',  and  only  fired  to  keep  them  off.  They 
called  to  each  other,  and  Scar-faced  Charley  came  down  off  the 
bluffs  and  talked  with  Dr.  Cabanis.  Scar-face  said  Captain  Jack 
was  there,  and  they  all  wanted  to  give  up.  Dr.  Cabanis  went  up 
and  talked  with  Jack,  who  wanted  to  know  what  they  would  do 
with  him.  He  said  he  would  surrender  the  next  morning ;  it  was 
late  then,  and  their  women  were  tired.  He  said  thej'  were  out  of 
food  and  clothes ;  that  their  feet  were  sore,  and  that  all  hands 
would  come  in  in  the  morning  and  give  up  their  guns. 

That  happened  on  Friday  evening,  the  30th  of  May.  The 
troops  then  went  down  to  Lost  river,  five  miles,  and  camped.  Dr. 
Cabanis  and  Modoc  Mose,  one  of  the  captured  Indians,  after- 
wards went  back  to  the  Modoc  camp,  and  carried  them  a  supply 
of  bread,  and  stayed  all  night.  They  returned  the  next  morning 
with  the  word  that  Jack  had  gone  before  their  return,  and  left  be- 
hind some  pretext  that  he  went  to  find  a  better  camp  on  the  bluff. 
But  that  morning  Scar-faced  Charley  came  in  and  laid  his  gun 
down,  and  did  it  with  an  exceeding  sorrowfulness,  as  if  he  felt  and 
understood  all  that  he  surrendered  in  doing  so.  Scar-face  is  more 
respected  than  any  other  Indian,  and  there  is  much  sympathy  felt 
for  him  among  the  whites,  as  he  went  to  war  unwillingly,  and  has 
done  his  work  in  open  warfare,  and  not  been  engaged  in  any  sav- 
age and  merely  murderous  work.  He  is  considered  the  best  and 
bravest  of  the  entire  Modoc  band  of  braves.  Next  came  Sconchin 
John,  the  old  villain,  who  drove  the  tribe  to  war  more  than  almost 
any  other  man,  and  who  is  considered  responsible  for  many  of  the 
inhuman  acts  committed.  He  laid  down  his  repeating  rifle,  with  a 
look  of  the  most  profound  and  savage  mistrust  and  gloomy  sorrow. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


687 


His  manner  was  untranslatable,  for  he  had  much  to  dread,  and  all 
his  fears  and  half  his  hate  of  white  men  were  visible  in  his  sullen 
manner.  The  lesser  lights  then  came  up  in  turn,  and  went  through 
the  form  of  surrender.  There  were  twelve  or  thirteen  in  all  who 
gave  up  their  guns,  and  all  of  them  gave  evidence  of  gloomy  teiTor. 
They  were  shown  a  place  to  camp  on  Lost  river,  in  Langell's  val- 
ley, and  the  next  morning  were  sent  with  Fairchild,  Lieut.  Taylor, 
of  the  artillerj',  and  sixteen  mounted  light-battery  men,  to  Gen. 
Da\i3'  quarters,  at  Jesse  Applegate's,  on  Clear  lake. 

In  the  mean  time  Gen.  Davis  had  sent  Maj.  Trimble,  with  his 
squadron,  including  some  Warm  Springs  scouts,  with  young  Apple- 
gate  and  Jesse  Anplegate's  nephew,  Charley  Putnam,  as  guides,  to 
intercept  Captain  Jack,  in  an  easterly  direction.  They  struck  the 
trail  ten  miles  north-east,  and  followed  it  five  miles  south,  back  to 
the  Willow  creek  caBon,  below  the  first  Modoc  place  of  retreat  or 
stronghold.  Then  part  of  the  force  crossed  to  the  south  side  and 
skirmished  up  the  canon.  The  scouts  soon  discovered  a  Modoc 
man,  named  Humpy  Joe,  a  hunchback,  who  is  half-brother  to  Cap- 
tain Jack.  He  asked  for  Fairchild,  and  Charlc}'  Putnam  told  him 
he  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  creek,  and  asked  where  Captain 
Jack  was.  Humpy  said  he  was  down  the  creek,  hid  in  the  rocks, 
and  would  surrender  to-morrow.  Charley  said  they  had  him  sur- 
rounded, and  he  must  surrender  now.  He  and  Maj.  Trimble  went 
with  Humpy  Joe,  who  called  for  Captain  Jack  to  come  forth,  and 
the  famous  chief  stepped  boldly  out  on  a  shelf  of  rock,  with  his 
gun  in  his  hand.  He  showed  no  timid  fear  or  trepidation,  and  his 
conduct  commanded  the  admiration  of  those  who  were  his  captors, 
for  a  certain  sort  of  native  dignity  was  apparent,  and  even  in  de- 
feat, and  at  the  moment  of  his  surrender,  the  great  Modoc  chief  was 
self-possessed,  and  acted  a  manl}'  part.  Major  Trimble  went  up 
to  him  and  demanded  his  gun.  He  also  asked  if  Fairchild  was 
there,  and,  learning  tliat  he  was  near,  gave  up  his  trusty  Springfield 
rifle,  a  remodelled  breech-loader.  Thus  ended  the  Modoc  war,  for 
its  soul  and  leading  spirit  of  evil  stood  there  a  captive,  with  his 
arms  given  up,  and  powerless  for  future  evil.  There  were  two 
others  with  him,  and  four  squaws  and  their  children  made  up  the 
list  of  prisoners  taken  at  that  time.  Captain  Jack  had  two  wives, 
and  one  of  them  had  a  bright  little  girl  of  six  years  old. 

Captain  Jack  then  walked  coolly  up  to  where  the  Warm  Springs 


tiiM;' 


5?  '  *: 


1: 


fi 


i  vife:^i 


I 


588 


WIGWASI   AND  WARPATH. 


Indians  were,  and  they,  with  a  commendable  spirit  of  forbearance, 
and  no  doubt  with  an  appreciation  of  the  heroism  that  had  so  long 
and  successfully  resisted  them,  laid  down  their  guns,  and  all 
around  shook  hands  with  the  Modoc  chief.  They  talked  some  with 
him ;  but  he  is  not  much  of  a  talker  either  in  English  or  Chinook, 
and  his  half  brother.  Humpy  Joe,  did  most  of  the  talking.  Cap- 
tain Jack  then  called  up  the  squaws  and  children,  and  they  were  all 
mounted  behind  tho  Warm  Springs  Indians,  and  started  for  Gen. 
Davis'  camp,  ten  miles  distant.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  Modoc 
chief  must  have  felt  crest-fallen,  and  have  been  humiliated  to  find 
himself  mounted  in  the  same  manner ;  but  those  who  saw  it  say  that, 
mounted  behind  a  "Warm  Springs  Indian,  he  still  bore  himself  with 
dignity,  and  sat  there  like  a  Roman  hero,  as  my  informant  gi'aphi- 
cally  expressed  it.  He  never  moved  a  muscle  or  bore  evidence  in 
his  look  that  he  felt  humiliated  at  his  defeat.  He  Dowed  to  Fair- 
child  as  ho  passed  him,  but  made  no  other  sign. 

Captain  Jack  was  looking  rather  shabby  when  discovered,  and  was 
allowed  to  don  his  better  suit  before  being  taken  to  head-quarters ; 
for  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  chieftain  was  in  a  very  dirty 
guise  ;  his  favorite  wife,  too,  was  looking  rather  untidy  ;  the  wife 
improved  her  attire  by  the  very  simple  process  of  donning  a  new 
delaine  dress,  not  exactly  made  in  the  latest  stj'le,  but  she  put  it 
on  over  the  plainer  calico,  which  was  too  much  soiled  to  be  present- 
able. I  do  not  learn  that  any  portion  of  Gen.  Canby's  dress  was 
found  when  he  was  taken. 

He  was  taken,  under  guard,  to  the  Modoc  camp  on  Clear  lake, 
where  the  rest  of  tho  prisoners  were  placed.  This  happened  Sun- 
day afternoon,  June  1.  The  "Warm  Springs  Indians  were  jubilant 
over  the  fact  that  they  had  finallj'  run  the  fox  to  earth.  Captain 
Jack's  stoical  fortitude  must  have  been  sorely  tried  as  he  rode,  a 
captive,  behind  one  of  them ;  for,  as  the  procession  moved,  it  as- 
sumed the  appearance  of  a  triumph,  and  he  formed  a  part  of  and 
listened  to  tho  triumphal  chant,  the  song  of  victory,  that  swelled 
along  the  line  of  his  captors  as  they  bore  him  awaj'  to  await  his 
fate.  But  they  who  saw  it  say  he  gave  no  token,  by  look,  or  word, 
or  act,  that  would  have  shown  that  he  was  interested,  or  that  he 
resented  the  rejoicing  over  his  defeat.  Again  the  song  of  triumph 
rose  and  swelled  as  they  approached  the  camp  on  Clear  lake,  and 
rode  into  the  presence  of  Gen.  Davis  and  Gen.  "Wheaton.    The 


ari 


m 


WMiffi' 


mm 


iiifiii 


,'*'«!  li^vH' 


il^•|!lM 


■  'i'J 


m 


'!:h:i,i 


iVify 


^l** 


■tfi 


SCHONCUIN     AND     JaCK     IN     CUAIMS. 


ii 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


591 


commander-in-cbief  can  certainly  congratulate  himself  that  his  well- 
directed  efforts  have  been  successfully  rewarded,  and  that  the  effi- 
ciency of  the  army  has  been  maintained  under  extraordinary  circum- 
stances. The  Warm  Springs  band  came  up  to  head-quarters,  ranged 
in  a  long  line,  with  their  strange,  wild  chant  ringing  on  the  air,  and 
delivered  their  prisoners,  who  were  ordered  under  guard  with  the  rest. 
A  greater  humiliation  still  awaited  the  discomfited  Modoc  chief. 
Gen.  Davis  ordered  leg-shackles  to  be  made  for  Captain  Jack  and 
Schonchin,  and  toward  evening  they  were  led  out  to  be  ironed. 
Great  excitement  pervaded  the  Modoc  camp  as  these  leaders  were 
taken  from  it,  and  led  away,  they  knew  not  where.  They  were 
taken  to  the  blacksmith  under  a  guard  of  six  men,  and  for  the  first 
time  Jack  showed  apprehension.  As  his  guards  passed  where 
Fairchild  stood,  he  stopped  and  asked  his  old  friend  where  they 
were  taking  him.  I  allude  to  Fairchild  here  as  his  friend,  because, 
while  he  has  never  excused  their  war  conduct,  he  has  been  always, 
for  many  years,  well  acquainted  with  them,  and  has  possessed 
great  influence  over  them.  They  have  learned  to  place  gi-eat  con- 
fidence in  him,  and  have  never  found  it  misplaced.  So  in  all  their 
movements  of  surrender  they  have  wanted  to  have  him  present,  and 
have  done  it  at  his  advice  when  otherwise  no  one  could  have  induced 
it.  He  gave  Captain  Jack  no  answer  but  to  tell  him  kindly  to  go 
on  with  the  men,  and  he  went  on  unhesitatingly.  He  may  have 
thought  he  was  going  to  execution,  but  he  went  on  nevertheless. 
At  Fairchild's  suggestion.  Scar-face  Charley  was  sent  for  to  act  as 
interpreter.  Scar-face  speaks  good  English,  and  he  explained  to 
Jack  and  Schonchin  that  they  were  to  be  shackled  to  prevent  any 
attempt  at  escape.  They  made  the  most  earnest  protestations  that 
they  had  surrendered  in  good  faith  ;  that  they  had  no  desire  to  get 
awaj',  and  under  no  circumstances  should  make  s"  "h  an  attempt. 
It  was  really  an  affecting  scene  to  witness  the  gric.  with  which  they 
submitted  to  have  the  shackles  placed  on  them  ;  but  when  they  saw 
that  their  fate  was  inexorable,  they  made  no  complaint  or  resist- 
ance, though  they  keenly  felt  the  indignity,  but  stood  silently  to  let 
the  rivets  tighten  to  bind  them  in  chains  they  will  never  cease  to 
wear,  for  it  is  probable  they  will  be  tried  by  a  military  tribunal, 
and  that  they  will  suffer  the  penalty  of  their  crimes  as  soon  as  the 
form  of  a  trial  and  securing  of  evidence  to  convict  them  can  be 
gone  through  with. 


'■•jlc^l 


692 


WiaW.UI   AND   WARPATH. 


Tho  short  and  decisive  campaign  that  has  resulted  in  practically 
ending  tho  Modoc  war  has  been  a  rough  one.  The  troops  were 
fully  ei^uipped,  and  the  horses  all  shod  and  in  good  order ;  but  tho 
ten  da3's'  scouting  through  a  terribly  rough  country  has  left  men 
and  horses  considerably  worse  for  wear.  It  is  now  ordered  that 
the  troops  under  Col.  Mason  shall  move  to  this  place  from  Fair- 
child's  ranch.  This  place  will  bo  head-quarters  until  the  whole 
matter  is  wound  up.  There  are  still  eight  or  ten  Modoc  warriors 
out ;  but  they  will  not  undertake  to  make  a  fight,  and  only  time  and 
good  management  are  required  to  lead  them  also  in  and  bring  the 
end. 

Captain  Jack  maintains  a  gloomy  reserve,  and  will  not  converse 
with  his  captors  on  any  subject.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  he  will  make 
no  explanation  or  revelations,  but  die  and  make  no  sign.  Bogus 
Charley  says  all  the  men  expect  to  die,  and  await  their  fate  with- 
out fear.  Captain  Jack  himself  has  no  fears  of  what  the  result 
may  be,  and  waits  it  with  stoical  fortitude.  He  will  die  heroieallj-, 
I  have  no  doubt,  for  he  has  evidently  less  regard  for  life  than  the 
rest  of  the  Modoc  warriors. 


I 


This  was  substantially  the  end  of  the  great  Modoc 
war.  The  closing  scenes  were  very  exciting.  Some 
of  them  are  worthy  of  mention  as  having  an  im- 
mediate bearing  on  the  question  of  Peace  and  War 
as  between  the  superior  race  and  the  original  inher- 
itors of  the  soil. 

Time,  June  8th,  1873.  Location  of  the  scene, 
Rocky  Point,  near  the  mouth  of  Lost  river.  — 
Characters  in  this  tragedy:  first,  Civilized  Chris- 
tianized white  men;  second,  Helpless  Modoc  cap- 
tives. 

James  Fairchild  —  a  brother  to  John  A.,  the  "  gray- 
eyed  man "  —  left  Fairchild's  ranch  on  the  morning 
of  the  8th,  with  a  four-mule  team,  and  a  wagon  filled 
with  Modoc  men,  women,  and  children,  who  had  sur- 
rendered and  were  entirely  unarmed. 


WIGWAM   ASH  WARPATH. 


593 


I 


Ycry  little  things  sometimes  turn  the  current  of 
great  events.  "Wiien  leaving  FairchiUVs  ranch  on  the 
morning  in  question,  the  entire  party  consisted  of 
seventeen  Modoc  captives  and  the  brothers  Fairchild. 
Among  the  captives  were  Bogus  Charley  and  Shack- 
nasty  Jim.  Before  arriving  at  Lost  river  the  party 
divided,  James  Fairchild  driving  the  team  and  going 
by  a  longer  route,  on  account  of  crossing  Lost  river 
at  a  wagon  ford;  John  A.  Fairchild,  together  with 
Shacknasty  Jim  and  Bogus  on  horseback,  going  by  a 
shorter  route.  The  latter  party,  not  mistrusting  dan- 
ger, continued  on  their  way,  not  waiting  for  the  team 
to  come  up  to  the  junction  of  the  roads. 

"While  James  was  crossing  the  river  he  encountered 
a  body  of  Oregon  volunteers,  under  command  of  Capt. 
Ilizer.  The  soldiers  gather  around  the  wagon  and 
question  Fairchild.  He  explains  to  them  that  the  In- 
dians under  his  care  are  Modoc  captives,  all  of  them 
Hot  Creeks;  that  he  is  taking  them  to  the  head-quar- 
ters of  General  Davis  on  "  the  peninsula,"  to  deliver 
them  up;  that  none  of  them  have  been  accused  of 
being  parties  to  any  murder  or  assassination.  This 
seems  to  satisfy  the  soldiers,  and  they  retire  to  their 
camp.  Fairchild  passes  on  towards  his  point  of  des- 
tination. After  proceeding  a  few  miles  he  sees  two 
men  going  towards  the  road,  with  the  evident  inten- 
tion of  intercepting  him.  The  Indians  in  the  wagon 
also  make  the  discovery,  and  beg  Fairchild  to  turn 
back,  to  save  them.  He  feels  that  trouble  is  brewing. 
He  looks  in  vain  for  his  brother  John  and  the  In- 
dians that  are  with  him.  The  two  men  have  halted 
by  the  roadside.  Fairchild  comes  up  to  them.  They 
order  him  to  halt,  and  accompany  the  order  with  a 


I  I. 


594 


WIGWAM  AND  AVAEPATH. 


i 


III 


heavy  ^^ persuader  ^^  in  close  proximity  to  his  head. 
The  music  made  by  "  spring  steel "  under  the  manip- 
ulation of  a  man's  hand  lias  but  two  notes,  —  a  short 
tick  and  a  long  click;  and  then  the  ^^ persuader'''*  is 
rccidy  for  business.  Fairchild,  hearing  this  kind  of 
music,  halts,  and  to  the  "  G  et  down,  you  old  white 

her.ded ,"  etc.,  demands,  "By  whose  authority?" 

"  By  mine.     I  am  going  tc  >ill  them  Ingcns,  and  you 

too, you  I  " 

One  of  the  civilized  white  men  cuts  the  mules  clear 
of  the  wagon.  Fairchild  leaps  to  the  ground,  still 
clinging  to  the  lines.  The  unarmed  captive  women 
beg  for  mercy.  They  plead  with  Fairchild  to  save 
them.  They  raise  imploring  liarids  and  cry,  "Don't 
kill  I  don't  kill  1 "  The  four  Indian  warriors  are  mute ; 
they  know  resistance  is  in  vain.  Fairchild  entreats 
the  white  men  to  desist.  The  muzzle  of  a  needle-gun 
is  within  six  inches  of  his  ear.  A  shot,  —  and  "  Little, 
JolirCs "  brains  are  scattered  over  the  women  and 
children.  Another,  and  ^^  Te-hee  JacJc^^  is  flounder- 
ing among  them.  Another,  and  ^^Poney^s^^  blood  is 
spurting  over  his  wife  and  children.  Still  another 
sh'^t,  and  ^^  3fooch"  falls  among  shrieking  yquaws. 
One  r.iore,  and  ^^ Little  JoJin's"  wife  is  shot  through  the 
shoulder.  The  five  are  writhing  in  the  death  agony 
together,  and  the  blood  of  the  victims  is  streaming 
throufjh  the  floor  of  the  Wfi^  on  and  dropping  in  piid- 
c'Jes  on  the  ground  beneath.  A  dust  is  seen  rising 
from  the  road.  The  civilized  white  murderers  decamp 
in  hasto,  leaving  Fairchild  holding  to  his  mules,  while 
the  uninjured  Modoc  women  are  extricating  them- 
sJ  vcs  from  the  dead  bodies  which  had  fallen  on  them. 
The  blood  of  this  civilized  hatchery  still  dropG  from 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


the  wagon.  Sergeant  Murphy  and  ten  men,  Battery  A, 
of  the  Fourth  Artillery,  came  upon  the  scene.  The 
civilized  hutchers  are  fleeing.  iVb  effort  is  made  to 
arrest  them.  Sergeant  Murphy  had  not  been  ordered  to 
arrest  them,  and,  of  course,  he  had  no  right  to  arrest 
wliite  men  without  an  order.  Capt.  Hizer's  company 
of  Oregon  volunteers  is  within  a  few  miles  also.  The 
country  is  open  ;  the  murderers  have  but  a  few  miles 
the  start.  But  Capt.  Hizer  has  no  orders  to  arrest 
wlii*-e  men  either.  He  is  not  there  for  that  purpose; 
ani  no  one  can  censure  him  because  he  did  not  catch 
the  civilized  wliite  murderers.  Those  men  were  seen 
by  Fau'child  before  and  behind  the  wagon.  They 
were  on  the  'vatch  for  John  Fairchild.  Had  he  and 
his  party  been  with  the  team  when  the  attack  was 
made,  the  census  return  '"f  that  county  would  not 
have  been  quite  so  large  as  it  is,  especially  on  the 
Anglo-Saxon  civilized  list.  Pity  he  was  not  there,  for 
he  is  "  a  dead  shot."  The  commiseration  is  due,  how- 
ever, to  the  community  that  furnished  homes  for  the 
fellows  who  covered  themselves  with  glory  by  perform- 
ing this  heroic  feat.  True,  they  dare  not  boast  of  it 
now,  but  they  will  by  and  by.  The  grand  jury  of 
Jackson  County  did  not  find  bills  of  indictment 
against  them.  No  effort  has  ever  been  made  to  dis- 
cover the  names  of  the  perpetrators  of  this  deed. 
True,  there  were  those  that  claimed  to  know  who  the 
persons  were,  but  they  never  tell;  neither  would  they 
tell,  if  nlaced  on  the  witness  stand.  I  would  not  have 
my  reader  suppose  that  the  j^^oj^le  of  Oregon  ap- 
proved of  the  crime  —  very  far  from  it.  They  con- 
demned it  in  unstinted  terms,  and  with  one  voice  shout- 
ed, "  Shame  I  Shame  I "    So  they  would  have  done  if  the 


PT'  "4^ 


Mm 

'■■■  '.iiH^flit 


596 


WIGWASI  AND  WARPATH. 


tables  had  been  turned.  N^o  State  in  the  Union  has  a 
more  orderly,  law-abiding,  peace-loving  people  than 
Oregon;  none  that  venerates  justice  more  highly. 
True,  they  have  sometimes  been  lenient  to  the  white 
men  of  bad  character.  But  no  more  so  than  other 
States  where  votes  are  necessary  to  elevate  men  to 
power.  Like  all  other  peoples  they  are  tender- 
hearted towards  all  men  who  control  votes.  As  a 
people  they  are  brave,  v/ithout  a  doubt;  but  among 
them  occasionally  may  be  found  specimens  of  cut- 
throatSj  who  kill  unarmed  people;  and  once  in  a 
great  while,  just  as  in  the  States  of  Massachusetts  or 
N^ew  York,  an  editor  who  does  the  same  kind  of  work 
with  his  pen,  when  he  thinks  he  can  do  it  with  im- 
punity. But  the  respectable  editors,  there  as  else- 
where, have  learned  sense  enough  to  let  a  man  alone 
when  he  is  down,  until  they  are  sure  he  can't  get  up 
before  they  kick  him.  With  great  unanimity  those 
of  Oregon  and  the  whole  Pacific  coast  denomice  the 
killing  of  helpless,  unarmed  Indians,  as  they  did  the 
killing  of  settlers  after  the  battle  of  Lost  river,  i^'ov., 
1873,  —  only  not  quite  strong  enough  to  justify  tlic 
authorities  in  making  any  efibrts  to  bring  the 
offenders  to  justice. 

The  scene  changes  to  a  military  camp  on  the  "  pe- 
ninsula," at  the  south  end  of  Tule  lake.  A  hundred 
white  tents  declare  this  to  be  the  head-quarters  of  the 
army  that  whipped  the  Modocs,  —  that  is  to  say,  the 
army  to  whom  the  Modoc  traitors  turned  over  their 
chief.  One  hundred  and  twenty  poor,  miserable  speci- 
mens of  humanity  are  under  guard.  There  is  great 
re,>ncing  over  the  victory.  Tlie  Modoc  women  and 
children  are  contented,  in  one  sense  at  least,  —  they  are 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


507 


well  fed,  and  have  rest.  The  Government  teams  have 
just  arrived  from  the  mountains  with  timber.  The 
quartermaster's  forces  are  engaged  in  rough  carpen- 
ter work.  Curious-looking  building  they  are  erecting, 
—  looks  something  like  a  country  butcher's  windlass ; 
but  it  is  not  that,  for  there  is  more  of  it.  The  Modoc 
captains  wonder  what  it  is  for.  They  are  unsophisti- 
cated in  civilized  modes  of  appeasing  outraged  jus- 
tice. 

Scar-face  Charley  asks  a  soldier,  "  Wliat  for  that 
thing  they  make?" 

"  To  hang  Modocs,"  laconically  replies  Mr.  Soldier. 

A  wail  of  savage  woe  breaks  the  air.  The  medi- 
cine-man says  he  "  can  beat  that  thing." 

"May  be  so.  Curly-haired  Doctor;  but  miless  some 
other  medicine  interferes  you  can  have  a  chance  to 
try  it,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  to  reflect  on  the  inhuman 
manner  in  which  you  and  Hooker  Jim  killed  Brother- 
ton,  Boddy,  and  others." 

^N^ot  far  from  the  gallows  we  see  an  artist  with  his 
camera,  and  going  toward  it  two  men  under  guard. 
One  of  them  shouted  "  Ivau-tux-ie  "  at  the  council 
tent  the  11th  of  April.  The  other  one  was  his  right- 
hand  man  then.  They  are  inseparable  now,  as  they 
have  been  for  years  past;  but  this  time  a  few  links  of 
log  chain,  as  well  as  bluody  crimes,  unite  them.  They 
cast  anxious  eyes  towards  the  gibbet.  They  meet 
John  Fairchild,  and  ask  him  where  they  arc  going. 
"  Go  on;  it's  all  light,"  he  replies.  They  take  places 
before  the  camera.  The  artist  lifts  his  velvet  cloth, 
and  Captain  Jack  looks  squarely  at  what  ajipears  to 
him  to  be  "  a  big  gun."  To  his  surprise  the  big  gun. 
is  again  covered  up,  and  he  is  then  assured  that  it 


M  m^ ... 

if!'""   ■,    n 


m "% 


598 


WIGWAM  AKD  WARPATH. 


will  not  shoot.  It  was  under  such  circumstances  that 
the  likeriess  of  Captain  Jack,  which  accompanies 
this  book,  was  taken.  Old  Schonchin  is  next  made 
a  target.  They  smile  when  led  away,  for  they  had 
expected  to  die. 

Some  satisfaction  to  know  that  the  old  fellow  en- 
dured suspense,  even  if  it  was  temporary.  They  arc 
taken  back  to  the  guard-house,  and,  as  they  march 
under  escort,  they  see  Hooker  Jim,  Bogus  Charley, 
Shacknasty  Jim,  and  Steamboat  Frank,  walking 
around  unfettered,  unguarded,  well  clothed,  well  fed, 
and  well  armed.  The  chief  restrains  himself  until  he 
arrives  at  the  tent  used  for  guard-house ;  then  he  gives 
way  to  a  tempest  of  passion,  and,  in  true  Indian  style, 
declaims  against  the  injustice  of  what  he  sees  and 
feels.  True,  Captain  Jack,  you  are  wearing  chains 
that  properly  belong  to  those  villains.  True,  you 
pleaded  with  all  your  eloquence  for  peace,  and  against 
the  assassination  of  the  commissioners.  True,  they 
voted  against  you.  True,  that  Bogus  first  proposed 
to  idll  Gen.  Canby,  and  that  he  was  also  first  to  betray 
you  to  your  enemies.  It  is  also  true,  that  for  this 
double  treachery  he  is  now  being  rewarded  with  lib- 
erty. True  enough,  that  that  cut-throat.  Hooker 
Jim,  is  the  very  man  that  put  the  woman's  hat  on  your 
head,  and  taunted  you  to  madness,  until  at  last  you 
yielded  against  your  judgment,  and  consented  to  com- 
mit the  first  great  crime  of  your  life.  True,  that  he 
was  the  man  who  followed  your  trail,  day  and  night, 
like  a  hound,  until  he  pointed  the  steps  of  the  soldier 
to  your  last  hiding-place.  It  is  for  this  damnable  act 
of  treachery  to  you  that  he  is  now  being  rewarded. 
True,  also,  that  Steamboat  Frank  and  Shacknasty 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


509 


Jim  fired  as  many  shots  at  the  commissioners  as  you 
did;  and  that  they,  too,  voted  against  you  while  you 
were  trj-ing  to  make  peace,  and  that  they  boast  yet 
of  the  number  of  soldiers  they  have  scalped.  They 
joined  Bogus  and  Hooker  Jim  in  hunting  you,  carry- 
ing each  a  breech-loading  rifle,  and  wearing  the  uni- 
form of  the  United  States  soldiers,  and  were  with  your 
captors  when  your  star  fell.  It  is  for  these  last-named 
heroic  acts  that  they  are  now  enjoying  the  boon  for 
which  you  have  pleaded  all  your  life,  from  the  same 
Government  that  pets  them,  and  almost  fawns  upon 
them  as  heroes.  Certainly  your  cup  is  full  of  grief, 
while  theirs  runs  over  with  joy.  If  you  were  a  white 
man  we  would  commiserate  you,  and  half  the  people 
of  America  would  join  in  an  effort  to  save  you; 
but  you  are  an  Indian,  l^o  Indian  can  be  an  "  hon- 
orable man;  "  the  idea  is  an  insult  to  every  Irishman 
and  German,  and  the  whole  Caucasian  race  besides. 
You  are  simply  unfortunate  in  being  born  in  the  land 
of  the  free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave,  with  a  red 
sJcin.  Better  you  had  been  born  across  the  sea,  and 
with  any  brogue  in  the  world  on  your  tongue.  If  you 
had  only  been  blessed  with  a  white  shin,  and  had  that 
kind  of  manhood  that  would  have  permitted  you  to 
wear  some  rich  man's  collar,  fawn  upon  and  toady  to 
the  whims  and  caprices  of  your  masters,  at  the  sacrifice 
of  your  own  self-respect,  and  that  of  the  rest  of  man- 
kind, then  your  crimes  might  have  been  condoned. 
But  you  are  now  a  citizen,  and  you  may  enjoy  a  citi- 
i.'^n's  privilege  of  being  punished  for  other  men's 
•••>.  ^v     ■;.  vvell  as  your  own. 

Gen.  Davis  has  invited  the  settlers  of  the  Lost- 
river   country,  to  "come  in  and   identify  the  mur- 


i:".^'  ■. 


:;li''i 


.,^,1^ 


600 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


derers,  and  stolen  property  captured  from  the  Mo- 
docs."  Among  others  who  availed  themselves  of  the 
opportunity  are  two  women.  We  have  seeii  them 
before,  —  the  first  time  on  the  afternoon  of  November 
29th,  1872,  when  the  red-handed  villain  who  walks 
around  camp,  the  lion  of  the  day, —  Hooker  Jim, — 
came  to  them  with  his  hands  red  with  the  heart's 
blood  of  their  husbands ;  and  again,  when  a  funeral 
procession  was  slowly  wending  its  way  to  the  Link- 
ville  cemetery.  We  recognize  them  as  Mrs.  Boddy 
and  her  widowed  daughter,  Mrs.  Schiere.  Gen.  Da- 
vis, with  the  heart  of  a  true  man  and  soldier,  receives 
them  kindly,  and  assigns  them  to  a  tent;  patiently 
listens  to  the  sad  story  of  their  great  bereavement. 

He  calls  on  them  again,  taking  with  him  Hooker 
Jim  and  Steamboat  Frank.  Mrs.  Boddy  identifies 
Hooker  as  one  of  the  Indians  concerned  in  the  mas- 
Bicre.  When  questioned  as  to  the  robbery  of  Mrs. 
Boddy's  house.  Hooker  Jim  replies,  "I  took  the 
short  purse,  and  Long  Jim  took  the  other  purse." 

The  women  are  much  excited  and  are  crying. 
They  lose  self-control.  Mrs.  Boddy,  drawing  from 
her  pocket  a  knife,  dashes  at  Hooker  Jim's  breast. 
Mrs.  Schiere,  with  a  pistol,  attempts  to  shoot  Steam- 
boat Frank.  The  man  who  would  not  brook  insult 
from  Gen.  Nelson  could  not  see  these  women  commit 
with  *  almost    superhuman    strength    and 


a 


crime; 


agility  he  disarms  both  women  before  they  have 
sipped  from  the  cup  of  revenge,  accidentally  receiving 
a  slight  wound  in  one  hand  from  the  knife  held  by 
Mrs.  Boddy.  The  savages  stand  unmoved  and  make 
no  effort  to  escape.  Let  the  reader  be  charitable  in 
judgment  on  the  actions  of  these  widows.    They 


•WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


601 


were  alone  in  the  world.  Their  protectors  had  fallen 
by  the  hands  that  have  since  been  washed  by  a  just 
Government,  when  in  its  dire  necessity  it  accepted 
their  services  as  traitors.  Ah!  double  traitors  to  a 
reluctant,  but  brave  leader.  If  the  men  who  killed 
the  unarmed  captives  in  Fairchild's  wagon  yesterday 
can  go  unpunished  after  killing  Indians  that  had  not 
harmed  them,  let  charity  extend  to  these  broken- 
hearted women,  nor  censure  them  for  a  thirst  for 
vengeance,  especially  when  they  realized  that  justice 
has  hid  her  face  to  these  inhuman  monsters  w^ho  are 
reeking  with  blood,  and  guilty  of  the  most  damnable 
treachery.  True,  these  arc  women;  but  the  accident 
of  sex  does  not  change  nature,  and  never  should  be 
urged  against  those  whose  Avrongs  drive  them  to 
desperation. 

The.  quarter-master's  carpenters  are  putting  on  the 
finishing  strokes  to  the  extempore  instrument  of  a 
jpartial  justice  to  be  administered  without  even  the 
farce  of  an  ex-parie  trial.  The  trap  is  being  arranged. 
Eight  or  ten  ropes  are  hanging  from  the  beam.  Gen. 
Davis  is  preparing  a  statement  of  the  crimes  com- 
mitted hy  the  captives,  and,  also,  his  verdict,  which  he 
proposes  to  read  to  these  unfortunate  subjugated  war- 
riors before  he  tests  the  strength  of  the  dangling 
ropes  with  live-weight.  A  courier  arrives  from  Y-re- 
ka.  A  message  is  received  by  Gen.  Davis,  oi-dcring 
him  to  hold  the  prisoners  subject  to  further  instruc- 
tions from  "Washington. 

The  work  on  the  hanging-machine  is  suspended. 
The  Modoc  medicine-man  assures  his  friends  that  he 
has  won  another  victory.  Gen.  Davis  is  thorough- 
ly chagrined.     The  disappointment  is  great.    Modocs 


iM 


,|!\',    r, 


■.).»A 


,^;fc 


,1 


,|C;'- 


602 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


enjoy  it ;  white  man  does  not.  The  brittle  thread  of 
life  has  been  strengthened  for  the  temporary  benefit 
of  a  few  vagabonds  whose  existence  is  no  blessing  to 
mankind  outside  of  the  Modoc  blood;  whose  death 
would  cause  a  shout  of  joy  over  the  civilized  world. 
Not  because  it  would  bring  back  the  dead,  and  cause 
them  to  stand  in  the  flesh  again,  but  because  justice 
has  been  done  to  a  man  with  a  red  skin  who  dared 
claim  the  privileges  of  manhood;  and,  being  denied, 
had  resisted  a  good  Government  in  which  he  had  no 
part. 

The  scaffold  stands  untried.  iNobody  knows 
whether  it  is  a  good  hanging-machine  or  not.  The 
camp  is  broken  up;  the  war  is  over,  and  the  Modocs 
are  now  where  they  can  be  controlled.  They  are  en 
route  to  Fort  Klamath,  under  guard. 

The  chieftain  who,  a  few  weeks  since,  was  over- 
matching the  best  military  talent  of  the  army,  holding 
in  abeyance  twenty  times  the  number  of  his  own 
forces,  and  defying  a  great,  strong  Government,  is  now 
a  captive  and  in  chains,  compelled  to  travel  under  an 
escort  over  the  route  he  had  passed  so  often  in  the 
freedom  of  days  gone  by.  Familiar  objects  greet  liis 
eyes  as  he  raises  them  from  the  last  look  he  will  ever 
take  of  the  scene  of  his  glory  as  a  chief,  and  his 
shame  as  an  outlaw. 

The  first  place  of  historical  interest  on  this  last  ride 
of  the  Modoc  chief,  as  he  leaves  "  the  peninsula,"  is 
where  Ben  "Wright  killed  nearly  as  many  warriors  as 
Captain  Jack  has  had  in  his  command.  If  the  angel 
of  justice  accompanies  this  conquering  army  with  its 
dejected  captives,  she  will  cover  her  face  while  it 
passes  the  spot  where  Modoc  blood  watered   the 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATn. 


603 


gi'oiind  under  a  flag  of  truce,  when  she  remembers 
that  the  perpetrators  of  that  deed  were  honored  for 
the  act.  A  few  miles  only,  and  the  vacant  cabin  of 
Miller  stands,  accusing  Hooker  Jim,  the  murderer 
of  its  builder  and  owner,  for  Ms  treachery,  and 
upbraiding  a  Government  that  excuses  his  crimes, 
because  he  can  be  made  useful  in  hunting  to  the 
death  the  chief  who  led  where  such  a  villain  forced 
him  to  go. 

Justice  uncovers  her  face  when  this  army  reaches 
Bloody  Point,  for  now  she  remembers  that  it  was 
here  that  a  train  of  emigrants  were  waylaid  and 
cruelly  butchered,  and  she  shows  no  favors  to  the  de- 
scendants of  those  who  committed  the  crime.  Again 
the  eye  of  the  conquered  chief  glances  over  the  scene 
of  his  childhood,  and,  too,  over  the  field  where  he 
fought  his  first  battle.  Since  it  would  be  pronounced 
sickly  "  sentimentalism  "  to  ponder  over  the  scenes  of 
such  a  man's  boyhood,  and  lest  we  should  oflfend 
some  white  marCs  fine  sense  of  pride  that  he  is  a 
white-skinned  man,  though  he  may  have  little  else  of 
which  to  boast,  we  pass  along  up  Lost  river,  with 
simply  recalling  the  fact,  that  this  man's  —  Captain 
Jack's  —  early  home  abounds  with  traditional  litera- 
ture connecting  his  name  with  the  savage  scenes  of 
the  past,  and  linking  it  with  the  tragic  events  of 
1872-3. 

The  conquering  army  marches  over  the  spot  where 
the  white  murderers  "  wiped  out "  some  of  the  wrongs 
committed  against  our  race.  The  tramping  of  sol- 
diers' feet  and  the  iron-shod  hoofs  of  mule  teams 
erases  the  dark  spots  in  the  road,  where  the  tokens 
of  requited  vengeance  were  painted  by  the  dropping 


si'.'     lU    la  |i 


604 


WIOW.UI   AND   WARPATH. 


wagon 


on   the 


eighth 


of 


u  ti 


blood   from   Fau'child's 
June. 

This  blood  does  not  cry  out  loud  enough  to  catch 
the  ear  of  the  sober,  honest-faced  angel  who  has  l)een 
perching  on  the  victorious  emblem  of  the  free  wliite 
American!  No  danger  that  those  dark  spots  will 
ever  trouble  that  great  angel.  The  blood  that  made 
them  was  drawn  from  the  wrong  kind  of  veins  for  that. 

While  the  army  marches  over  the  trail,  effacing 
footprints  of  the  fleeing  avenger,  a  shot  is  heard. 
Quick  almost  as  lightning  flash  every  soldier's  hand 
grasps  his  arms.  The  thought  that  the  Modocs 
are  attempting  esc.t  •  passes  through  every  mind. 
"  Halt !  "  —  rings  out  tiie  cavalry  bugle.  Above  one 
of  the  Government  wagons  a  small  puff  of  smoke  is 
rising  in  the  clear  morning  air,  while  behind  and  Ije- 
neath  it  the  spattered  drops  of  blood  announce  that 
another  tragedy  is  now  being  enacted.  The  wagon 
halts,  and  now  through  the  floor  the  current  runs  in 
streams,  while  its  splashing  on  the  ground  makes 
melody  for  ears  of  white  men  and.  soothes  the  dyiug 
senses  of  Curly-haired  Jack. 

A  few  words  of  explanation,  and  the  fact  is  estab- 
lished that  treason  is  still  among  the  Modocs,  trea- 
son to  the  Government  of  the  United  States,  com- 
mitted hy  Curly-haired  JacTc,  in  blowing  out  his  own 
brains,  thus  cheating  the  aforesaid  government  out  of 
the  great  privilege  of  hanging  him  for  the  murder 
of  Lieut.  Sherwood,  under  a  flag  of  truce,  on  the 
eleventh  of  April,  1873. 

Poor,  conscience-stricken  self-murderer  I  his  body 
is  mixed  up  again  with  his  native  land,  and  his 
friends  are  denied  the  privilege  of  mourning  for  hiin. 


WI0WA3I  AND  WARPATH. 


G05 


The  army,  with  its  costly  coterie  of  famous  guests, 
encamps  at  Modoc  camp  on  Klamath  Reservation. 
This  is  the  spot  where  Captain  Jack  and  his  people 
settled  in  the  heginning  of  1870.  How  changed  the 
fortunes  of  this  man!  Then  his  linihs  were  free, 
though  his  manhood  was  half  disputed;  now  every 
motion  of  his  limbs  rings  clanking  music  in  his  car, 
constantly  reminding  him  that  his  manhood  has 
obtained  recognition  at  the  cost  of  life  and  liberty. 
Then  he  was  restless  under  the  restraints  of  civiliza- 
tion, because  it  denied  to  him  a  clear  jiathway  to  its 
privileges  and  blessings;  now  he  is  passive  under  the 
persuasive  influence  of  a  power  that  compels  his 
crushed  spirit  to  submission.  Then  he  was  the  hero 
chief  of  Hooker  Jini  and  Bogus  Charley,  and  the 
daring  band  that  surrounded  him;  lOW  he  is  the 
humbled,  crest-fallen  victim  o^ their  treachery. 

Hg  sits  behind  a  guard  whose  glittering  bayonets 
warn  him  of  the  folly  of  resistance.  His  hetrayers, 
unfettered,  ramble  over  the  ground  where  the  Modocs 
ha'^  begun  their  new  home  in  ]  870. 

He  steals  glances  at  the  great  witness  tr(;e  where 
Modocs  and  Klamaths  buried  the  hatchet.  They 
dance  with  joy  over  the  results  of  its  resurrection. 

The  army  moves  out  of  camjD.  The  captive  chief 
catches  sight  of  four  rough-hewn  timbers  on  the  left 
of  the  road.  These  were  once  designed  for  use  in 
making  that  chief  a  house,  wherein  he  was  to  have 
passed  through  probation,  looking  toward  his  ulti- 
mate attainment  of  citizenship  under  the  "  Humane 
Policy  of  the  Government." 

The  Klamaths,  who  badgered  him  into  the  aban- 
donment of  his  new  home  in  1870,  have  not  disturbed 


ii....  m 


i  in 


',  ■'::«:: 


GOG 


WIOWAM  AND   WAKPAXn. 


tlio  house-logs  referred  io.  They  never  will;  and  the 
probabilities  are  that  these  logs  will  remain  as  monu- 
ments, marking  the  sepulchure  of  broken  hopes. 

A  few  miles  before  reaching  Fort  Klamath  the 
cavalcade  passes  through  Council  Grove,  —  the  place 
where  Klamaths  and  Modocs  made  ^he  treaty  of  18GJ: 
with  the  United  States. 

At  last  the  shattered  companies  of  soldiers  reach  the 
fort,  having  left  behind  them  many  of  their  comrades ; 
but  having  in  charge  a  distinguished  prisoner  and  his 
companions.  When  they  pass  inside  the  irregular 
circle  of  forest  trees  that  shut  Fort  Klamath  up  into 
a  grand  amphitheatre,  the  outside  is  shut  out  from 
four,  at  least,  of  the  prisoners  forever. 


CHAPTEE     XXXyi. 

TAKING  A   SAFE  LOOK    AT    A    SUBDUED    LION --POWER    BE- 
HIND BAYONETS  — WEAKNESS  UNDER  CHAINS. 


A  roRTiON  of  Fort  Klamath,  mentioned  in  the  last 
chapter,  is  used  as  a  court-room.  A  long,  narrow 
table  stands -near  the  middle  of  the  hall.  At  the  far- 
ther end  of  the  table  sits  Licut.-Col.  Elliott,  First 
Cavalry,  to  his  right  Capt.  Ilasbrouck  of  Fourth  Ar- 
tillery, and  Capt.  Robert  Pollock,  Twenty-first  Infan- 
try. On  the  left,  Capt.  John  Mendenhall,  Fourth  Ar- 
tillery, and  Second  Lieut.  George  Kingsbury,  Twelfth 
Infantry.  These  ofiiccrs  arc  all  in  new  uniform,  and 
make  a  fine  impression  of  power.  At  the  other  end 
of  the  table  sits  Maj.  H.  P.  Curtis,  Judge  Advocate; 
also  in  uniform  near  him.  Dr.  E.  S.  Belden,  short- 
hand reporter.  To  the  right  of  Col.  Elliott,  sitting 
on  a  bench,  four  men,  —  red  men^  —  Captain  Jack, 
Schonchin,  Black  Jim,  Boston  Charley.  All  these 
men  were  at  the  council  tent  the  11th  of  April  last, 
and  participated  in  the  murder  of  Gen.  Canby  and 
Dr.  Thomas.  Lying  on  the  floor  are  two  others. 
They  are  the  men  who  jumped  from  the  ambush  with 
the  rifles,  and  uttered  the  yell  that  sent  terror  to  the 
hearts  of  the  Peace  Commissioners,  —  Barncho  and 
Slolux.  Behind  Maj.  Curtis  two  other  familiar  faces, 
—  Frank  Riddle  and  his  wife  Tobey. 

At  a  side  table  reporters  are  sitting.  At  either  end 
of  the  room  a  file  of  soldiers  stand  with  muskets 


•9fw 


I 


■i!'*n 


■li '  *■ 


608 


■\TIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


ornamented  with  polished  bayonets.  These  are  nec- 
essary, for  the  prisoners  might  kill  somebody  if  the 
bayonets  were  not  there !  Hooker  Jim,  Bogus,  Shack- 
nasty  and  Steamboat  arc  standing  near  the  door,  un- 
fettered and  unguarded.  Thei/  don't  need  guarding, 
for  they  are  soldiers  now  themselves,  and  have  done 
more  to  close  up  the  Modoc  war  than  the  "  Army  of 
a  Thousand." 

They  are  real  live  heroes,  and  they  feel  it  too.  If 
anything  is  yet  wanting  to  make  this  scene  complete, 
it  is  fully  made  up  by  the  soldiers,  who  now  enjoy  a 
safe  look  into  the  eyes  of  the  Mc:loc  chief. 


it 


SECOND  DAY. 

FoBT  Klamath,  July  5,  1873. 

The  commission  met  at  IC  A.  M.,  pursuant  to  adjournment. 

Present,  all  of  the  members  of  the  commission,  the  judge-advo- 
cate, and  prisoners. 

Tlic  ]M'occeding3  of  the  last  meeting  ^vere  read  and  approved. 

The  judge-advocate  then  read  before  the  commission  the  ordi  r 
convening  the  commission,  which  is  inteq:)reted  to  the  prisoners. 

The  commission  then  proceeded  to  the  trial  of  the  prisoners : 
Captain  Jack,  Schonchin,  Black  Jim,  Boston  Charlej-,  Barncho 
(alias  Ono-Eyod  Jim),  and  Slolux,  Modoc  Indian  captives,  wlio 
being  called  before  the  conunission,  and  having  heard  the  order 
convening  it  read,  it  being  interpreted  to  them,  were  severally 
asked  if  thoy  had  any  objection  to  any  member  present  named  in 
the  order,  to  which  they  severall}'  replied  in  the  negative. 

The  members  of  llu;  commission  were  then  dulv  sworn  by  the 
jndge-advocate ;  and  the  judge-advocate  was  then  dul}'  sworn  by 
tlie  president  i.>f  the  commission  ;  all  of  which  oaths  were  adirm- 
istered  and  interpreted  in  the  presence  of  the  prisoners. 

The  judge-advocate  asked  the  authority  of  thv.  commission  to 
employ  T.  F.  Riddle  and  wife  as  interpreters,  at  $2  ">  a  day,  which 
authority  was  given  by  the  commission. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


609 


T.  F.  Ridtlle  and  wife  (Tobey)  were  then  duly  sworn  to  the  faith- 
ful performauce  of  their  duty  in  the  interpretation  of  the  evidence 
and  proceedings  aa  required,  in  the  presence  of  the  prisoners, 
which  oath  was  interpreted  to  the  prisoners. 

The  judge-advocate  then  prescated  to  the  conimission  E.  S.  Bel- 
den,  the  official  8hort-hand  reporter,  who  was  then  duly  sworn  to 
the  fjithful  performance  of  his  duty ;  which  oath  was  duly  inter- 
preted to  the  prisoners. 

The  prisoners  were  then  severally  asKC'i  by  the  judge-advocate 
if  they  desired  to  introduce  councl ;  to  which  they  severally  replied 
in  the  negative  ;  and  that  they  had  been  unable  to  procure  any. 

The  prisoners  were  then  severally  duly  arraigned  on  the  follow- 
ing charges  and  specifications :  — 


Charges  and  specifications  preferred  against  certain  Modoc  Indians 
commonly  known  and  called  as  Captain  Jack,  Schonchin,  Boston 
Charley,  Black  Jim,  Barncho,  alias  One^Eyed  Jim,  and  Slolux, 
aUas  Cok. 

Cu^uiGE  First.  —  ' '  Murder  in  violation  of  the  laws  of  war."  The 
specificatiou  in  substance  was  the  murder  of  Gen.  E.  R.  S.  Canby 
and  Dr.  Eleazer  Thomas. 

Chaug*:  Second.  —  "  Assault  with  intent  to  kill  in  violation  of 
the  laws  of  war."  Specification  second.  "Assault  on  the 
Commissioners.     Attempt  to  kill  A.  B.  Meacham  and  L.  S.  Dyer." 

"  AH  this  at  or  near  the  Lava  Beds,  so-called,  situated  near  Tule 
Lake,  in  the  State  of  California,  on  or  about  the  11th  day  of  April, 
1873." 


'■r-i  .'i! 


To  which  the  prisoners  severally  pleaded  as  follows :  — 

To  first  specification,  first  charge,  "  Not  guilty." 
To  second  specificatiou,  first  charge,  "  Not  guilty." 
To  first  charge,  "  Not  guilty." 
To  first  specification,  second  charge,  "  Not  guilty." 
To  second  specification,  second  charge,  "  Not  guilty." 
To  second  charge,  "Not  guilty." 

T.  F.  Riddle,  a  citizen  and  witness  for  the  prosecution,  being 
duly  sworn  by  the  judge- advocate,  testified  as  follows  :  — 


,U''r. 


>>.   i?r 


-"■:    .€' 


610 


WIGWAil   AND  WARPATH. 


its 


:,■: 


Question  by  judge-advocate.  Were  you  present  at  the  meeting 
of  the  commissioners  and  General  Canb}^,  referred  to  in  the 
charges  and  speciflcations  just  read?    Ansivej'.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  On  what  day  was  it?  A.  On  the  11th  of  April,  I  believe,  as 
near  as  I  can  recollect. 

Q.  "Were  the  prisoners  at  the  bar  present  on  that  occasion? 
A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  You  identify  them  all?  A.  Yes,  sir;  I  identify  all  but 
Barncho  and  Slolux.  I  saw  them,  but  I  didn't  know  them.  They 
were  some  seventy- five  yards  behind  me  ;  they  came  iip  behind. 

Q.  Is  Captain  Jack  the  principal  man  in  this  Modoc  band? 
A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  What  is  he?  Describe  him.  A.  He  is  a  chief  amongst 
them.     He  has  been  a  chief  since  18G1,  I  believe. 

Q.  What  position  did  Schonchin  hold  among  the  Modocs  ?  A.  I 
never  knew  him  to  be  anything  more  than  just  a  common  man 
amongst  them  until,  within  the  last  j'ear,  he  has  been  classed  as 
Captain  Jack's  sub-chief,  I  believe  ;  the}'  call  it  a  "  Sei'geant." 

Q.  Black  Jim?  A.  He  has  been  classed  as  one  of  his  watch- 
men, they  cr.ll  them. 

Q.  Boston  Charley?  A.  He  i3  nothing  more  than  a  high 
private. 

Q.   Barncho  ?    A.   He  is  not  anything. 

Q.   Slolux?    A.   He  is  not  anything. 

Q.  Are  they  all  Modocs?  A.  Yes,  sir;  they  are  classed  as 
Modocs  ;  one  of  them  is  a  Rock  Indian,  or  a  "  Cumbatwas." 

Q.  Were  they  all  present  at  this  meeting  of  the  11th  of  April? 
A.  Yes,  sir.  Barncho  and  Slolux  was  not  in  the  council.  They 
came  up  after  the  firing  commenced. 

Q.  Wliat  connection  did  j'ou  have  with  the  peace  commissioners 
from  the  beginning?  A.  I  was  emploj'cd  by  General  Gillam  lO 
interpret,  and  then  from  that  I  was  turned  over  to  the  peace  com- 
missioners ;  but  I  acted  as  interpreter  all  of  the  time  —  all  throu'^'j 
their  councils. 

Q.  Did  you  ever  receive  any  information  which  led  you  to  sup- 
pose it  was  a  dangerous  matter  for  the  commissioners  to  interview 
these  men?  A.  Yes,  sir;  the  first  that  I  learned  was  when  I 
stopped  at  Fairchild's.  They  agi-eed  to  meet  the  wagons  out 
between  Little  Klamath  and  the  Lava  Beds,  and  all  of  them  come 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Gil 


in,  women  and  children.  They  said  Captain  Jack  sevt  word  that 
if  General  Canby  would  send  his  wagons  out  there,  they  would 
send  his  women  and  children  in. 

Q.  Where  you  present  at  the  killing  of  General  Canby  and  Mr. 
Meacham?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Had  you  received  any  information  which  led  you  to  think  that 
it  was  dangerous?  A.  Yes,  sir,  I  had ;  my  woman,  some  week  or 
ten  daj'S  before  that,  went  to  carry  a  message  into  Jack's  cave, 
where  he  was  living,  and  there  was  an  Indian  called  William  —  he 
followed  her  after  she  started  for  home  brck  to  camp,  he  followed 
her  out. 

Q.  How  do  you  know  this  ?    A.  My  woman  told  me. 

Q.  In  consequence  of  some  information  which  you  received, 
what  did  you  then  do  ?  Did  you  speak  to  the  commissioners  about 
it?  A.  Yes,  sir;  I  told  them  I  received  information,  and  then  I 
weni  to  the  peace  commissioners  and  told  thena  it  was  dangerous 
to  go  out  there  any  more  to  meet  them,  and  I  advised  them  not  to 
go.  While  I  was  at  FaL'child's,  this  Hooker  Jim,  he  came  there 
and  took  me  out  one  side  and  told  me,  "If  j'ou  ever  come  with  them 
peace  commissioners  to  meet  us  anj''  more,  and  I  come  to  you  and 
push  you  to  one  side,  j'ou  stand  back  one  side  and  we  won't  hurt 
you,  but  will  murder  them." 

Q.  Do  I  understand  you  to  say  you  then  cautioned  the  conamis- 
sioners  ?    A.   Yes  ;  I  told  them  of  it. 

Q.  What  did  you  say  ?  A.  I  told  them  what  Hooker  Jim  told 
me ;  and  I  said  I  didn't  think  it  was  of  any  use  to  try  to  make 
peace  with  those  Indians  without  going  to  the  Lava  Beds,  right 
where  they  were.  I  said,  "  I  think  the  best  way,  if  3'ou  want  to 
make  peace  with  them,  is  to  give  them  a  good  licking,  and  then 
make  peace." 

Q.  Did  j'ou  tell  them  what  Hooker  Jim  said?  A.  Yes,  sir; 
and  at  another  time,  I  believe  it  was  the  very  next  time  after  we 
were  out  in  the  Lava  Beds  —  after  General  Gillam  had  moved  over 
to  the  Lava  Beds  —  we  met,  and  Hooker  Jim  came  to  me  after  we 
got  to  the  ground  where  we  were  to  hold  our  council,  and  he  took 
hold  of  me  and  said,  "  You  come  out  here  and  sit  down ;  "  and  he 
pushed  me  as  he  said  he  would.     I  said  "  No." 

Q.  When  was  this?  A-  I  don't  remember  the  date;  it  was 
some  time  in  April, 


rm's 

.iSjli'".** 


i}-  ^     il 


'*' 


vmmm 


•m^^ 


612 


WIGWAM     -STD  WAEPATH. 


Q.  The  fii'st  or  second  meeting?  A.  The  first  meeting  after 
Hooker  Jim  had  told  me  this  at  Fairchild's. 

Q.  Where  they  the  same,  or  other  commissioners?  A.  It  was 
General  Canby,  Dr.  Thomas,  and  Mr.  Dyer,  and  Judge  Rose- 
borourgh,  I  believe,  was  along,  if  I  am  not  mistaken ;  I  won't  be 
positive.  Hooker  Jim  came  to  me  and  caught  hold  of  me,  and 
pushed  me  one  side,  and  said,  "  You  stand  out  here."  I  to'  1,  him 
"  No ;  "  that  I  had  to  go  and  talk  and  interpret  for  them ;  ana  'uy 
woman  here  spoke  up  to  him  to  behave  himself,  and  not  go  :Toing 
anything  while  he  was  there;  and  he  then  said,  "Well,  go  and 
sit  down." 

Q.  Did  j'ou  visit  the  Lava  Beds  before  the  massacre ;  and,  if  so, 
did  you  go  alone,  or  with  some  one  else?  A.  The  first  time  I 
went  in  there  was  with  Squire  Steele.    Fairchild  — 

Q.  (Interrupting.)  Very  shortly  before  the  massacre,  did  you? 
A.   Well,  I  was  in  there. 

Q.  State  why  j-ou  went  in  there.  A.  I  was  in  there  on  the  10th 
of  April.  M}'  woman  and  me  went  in  there,  and  took  a  written 
message  in  there  from  the  peace  commissioners.  I  read  and  inter- 
preted it  to  Captain  Jack,  and  I  told  him  then,  after  I  intei  ireted 
it  to  him,  that  I  gave  him  a  notice  ;  and  I  told  him  to  briwg  it  the 
next  day  when  he  met  the  commissioners,  to  bring  it  with  him. 
He  threw  it  on  the  ground,  and  he  said  he  was  no  white  man ;  he 
could  not  read,  and  had  no  use  for  it.  He  woul.l  meet  the  com- 
missioners close  to  his  camp  —  about  a  mile  io}  ond  what  they 
called  the  peace  tent.  He  said  he  would  meet  them  there  and  no- 
where else. 

Q.  A  mile  nearer  the  Lava  Beds  than  the  peace  tent?  A.  Yes ; 
he  said  that  was  all  he  had  to  say  then.  I  could  hear  them  talking 
around,  and  sort  of  making  light  of  the  peace  conamissioners  —  as 
much  as  to  say  they  didn't  care  for  them. 

Q.  What  was  the  tenor  of  this  message  you  say  you  read?  A. 
It  was  a  statement  that  they  wished  to  hold  a  council  with  them  at 
the  peace  tent  next  day,  to  uu. .  '  permuuent  settlement  of  the  dif- 
ficulties between  the  whites  and  the  Indians  ;  they  wanted  to  make 
peace,  and  move  them  off  to  some  warm  climate,  where  they  could 
live  like  white  people. 

Q.  Where  is  that  note  you  carried ?    A.   it  is  lost. 

Q.  Did  Captain  Jack  say  anything  about  arms  in  reference  to 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


G13 


the  meeting?  A.  Yes,  sir ;  be  said  lie  -svoukl  moot  thom  five  men 
without  arras,  and  he  would  do  the  same  — he  would  not  take  any 
arms  with  him. 

Q.  That  he  would  meet  them  at  the  place  he  fixed  —  one  mile 
nearer  the  Lava  Beds?  A.  Yes,  sir;  one  mile  nearer  the  Lava 
Beds. 

Q.  Five  men,  without  arms,  and  he  would  also  go  without 
arras?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

The  Court.     Five,  includinf^,  hiraself?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

The  Judge-Advocate.  What  did  he  say  about  the  proposition 
to  move  him  from  the  Lava  Beds  ?  A.  lie  said  he  knew  no  other 
country  only  this,  and  he  did  not  want  to  leave  it. 

Q.  Did  he  say  anything  about  a  desire  for  peace  ?  A.  Yes  ;  he 
said  if  they  would  move  the  soldiers  all  away  he  would  make  peace 
then,  and  live  right  there  were  he  was,  and  would  not  pester  any- 
body else  ;  he  would  live  peaceablj'  there. 

Q.  Was  Captain  Jack  alone  in  this  interview  when  you  talked 
with  him  ?  A.  No,  sir ;  these  other  men  were  around  with  him, 
sitting  down. 

Q.  These  prisoners  here  now  ?    A.   Some  of  them. 

Q.  Did  he  do  all  or  only  a  part  of  the  talking?  A.  Tluxt  even- 
ing he  done  all  of  the  talking  —  that  is,  he  was  the  onlj  one  that 
had  anj'thing  to  say  to  me  in  regard  to  this  affair. 

Q.  Did  3'ou  see  anything  there  which  led  you  to  suppose  that 
they  intended  hostilities?  A.  Yes,  sir;  I  did;  I  saw  that  they 
had  forted  up  all  around  the  cave. 

Q.  Did  they  seem  to  be  well  provisioned?  A.  They  had  just 
been  killing  several  beeves  there  that  dr^y. 

Q.  Which  of  these  men  M'ore  there  at  the  time  ?  A.  Boston 
was  there  —  most  all  of  those  that  are  here. 

Q.  Can't  3'ou  name  them?  A.  Tuore  was  Boston,  Black  Jim 
was  there,  and  Barncho ;  I  don't  remerabor  whether  Sohoncliiu 
was  there  or  not  at  the  time  the  conversation  was  going  ou. 

Q.   Did  you  go  back  <  J  the  commissioners  then?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  State  the  facts  about  it.  State  what  followed  after  your  re- 
turn to  the  commissioners.  — A.  I  went  back  and  went  to  the 
peace  commissioners'  tent  with  Jack's  message  that  he  would  meet 
them  five  unarmed,  and  he  would  do  the  same  ;  he  would  have  five 
men  with  himself,  and  go  without  arms  ;  and  I  told  him  they  were 


1 

>.  y 

III 

Pi 

1     1  'I  ili 

1 

';!,!  -.i 


i;:::;#t)ilf; 


.0  w', 


,'l  ■)*' 


614 


■VVIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


fortecl  all  around  there,  and  they  had  be?n  killing  beef;  and  I 
thought  it  was  useless  to  try  to  make  peace  any  longer ;  and  if 
Captain  Jack  Avould  not  agree  to  meet  at  the  tent,  and  if  I  were  in 
their  places  I  would  not  meet  them  any  more. 

Q.  What  did  the  commissioners  then  reply  or  decide  upon? 
What  decision  did  they  come  to  ?  A.  They  held  a  council  between 
themselves.     I  was  not  at  their  council. 

Q.  Was  your  visit  the  day  before  the  assassination  ?  A.  Yes, 
sir;  I  soju  General  Canby  that  evening;  and  I  told  him  I  had  a 
proposition  to  make  to  him.  He  was  out,  and  I  met  him,  and  he 
wanted  to  know  what  it  was  ;  I  told  him  that  if  I  was  in  his  place, 
if  I  calculated  on  meeting  them  Indians,  I  would  send  tweuty-nve 
or  thirty  men  near  the  place  were  I  expected  to  hold  the  council, 
to  secrete  themselves  in  the  rocks  there  ;  that  the;-  would-  stand  a 
good  show  to  catch  them,  if  they  undertook  to  do  anything  that 
was  wrong.  General  Canby  said  that  that  would  be  too  much  of 
an  insult  to  Captain  Jack  ;  that  if  they  knew  of  that,  they  might  do 
an  injury  then  ;  he  would  not  do  that. 

Q.   Did  you  hear  him  say  that?    A.  Yes. 

Q.  Did  they  determine  to  meet  him,  or  not?  A.  they  sent  to 
me  the  next  morning,  then,  to  come  down  to  the  peace  commis- 
sioners' tent. 

Q.  Was  Captain  Jack  informed  that  thej'  would  not  go  to  that 
place  one  mile  nearer?  A.  Yes,  sir;  Bogus  Charley  went  in  that 
evening  before  the  murder,  right  ahead  of  me,  into  General  Gilliam's 
camp  and  sta^-ed  all  night.  He  staid  at  my  camp,  and  the  next 
morning  the  peace  commissioners  decided  that  the}'  would  not 
meet  Captain  Jack  in  this  place  where  he  wanted  to  meet  them,  and 
sent  a  message  out  by  Bogus  and  Boston  for  them  to  meet  him  at 
the  peace  commissioners'  tent,  tlie  peace  tent,  and  they  were  goiio 
about  an  hour ;  and  they  cm ne  buck  again  and  said  that  Captaiu 
Jack  WO'  there  with  five  men. 

Q.    (Interrupting).     You  heard  it?    A.   Yes. 

Q.  Jack  was  to  meet  them  where  ;  he  was  where ?  A.  He  was 
at  the  peace  tent. 

Q.  Captain  Jack  sent  back  a  message  then  by  Bogus  and  Boston 
<lint  he  would  meet  them  at  the  peace  tent  with  live  nu'U  ?  A.  Yp-^, 
sir ;  but  they  were  not  armed,  and  he  wanted  the  peace  commw- 
s loners  to  go  without  arms. 


WiaWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


615 


Q.   lie  sent  that  message,  and  j'ou  heard  it?    A.   Yes,  su". 

Q.  What  advice,  if  any,  did  3011  then  give  the  commissioners ? 
A.  My  woman  and  me  went  down  to  the  peace  commissioners* 
tent  and  she  went  to  Mr.  Meachara ;  I  saw  her  myself  at  the  first, 
thougli  I  told  liim  not  to  meet  them. 

Q.  "Were  30U  at  the  peace  commissioners*  tent  when  you  gave 
them  this  advice  ?  A.  The  peace  commissioners*  tent  in  General 
Gillam's  camp. 

Q.  Not  the  large  peace  tent?  A.  No ;  the  peace  commissioners' 
tent.  He  wanted  to  know  vfhy,  and  I  told  him  they  intended  to 
mm'der  them,  and  that  the}-  might  do  it  that  day  if  everything 
was  not  right ;  and  my  woman  went  and  took  hold  of  Mr.  Meacham 
and  told  him  not  to  go  ;  and  held  on  to  him  and  cried.  She  said, 
"Meacham,  don't  you  go!"  —  I  heard  her  say  so  mj'self  —  "for 
they  might  kill  you  to-day ;  they  may  kill  all  of  3-ou  to-day  ; "  and 
Dr.  Thomas,  he  came  up  and  told  me  that  I  ought  to  put  ray  trust 
in  God ;  that  God  Almighty  would  not  let  any  such  bod}'  of  men 
be  hurt  that  was  on  as  good  a  mission  as  that.  I  told  him  at  the 
time  that  he  might  trust  in  God,  but  that  I  didn't  trust  any  in 
them  Indians. 

Q.  Did  any  of  the  other  commissioners  make  any  repl}-? 
A.  Mr.  Meacham  said  that  he  knew  there  wf.s  diinger,  and  he 
believed  me,  every  word  I  said,  and  he  believed  the  Avoman,  and  so 
did  Mr.  D3'er.  He  said  he  believed  it ;  and  he  said  that  he  felt 
like  he  was  going  to  his  grave.  I  went  then  to  General  Canb}'  and 
asked  him  if  General  Gillam  was  going  out.  He  said  "No."  I 
said,  I  want  your  commissioners  then  to  go  to  General  Gillam's 
tent  with  me. 

Q.  Did  they  go?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Was  Tobey  with  j-ou?  A.  No,  sir;  she  was  not  with  me 
tlii!|i  I  she  was  standing  holding  her  horse. 

Q.  State  what  occurred  at  (icneral  Gillam's  tent.  A.  We  went 
down  willi  Mr.  Meacham,  General  Canby,  Dyer,  and  Dr.  Thomas ; 
and  General  Canby  walked  down  with  us.  General  Canby  did  not 
go  into  the  tent,  but  the  other  three  went  in ;  that  is,  Mr.  Dx'cr, 
Meacham,  and  Dr.  Thomas,  and  I  went  in  to  General  Gillam  and 
said,  "General  Gillam,  these  men  are  going  out  to  hold  council 
Avith  them  Indians  to-day,  and  I  don't  bclieAC  it  is  safe.  If  there 
is  anything  happens  to  them,  I  don't  want  no  blame  laid  on  me 


III 


1:     I.: 


tit  :  ij 


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GIG 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


hereafter,  because  I  don't  think  it  is  safe  for  them  to  go,  and  after 
it  is  over  I  don't  want  nothing  laid  on  me;"  said  I,  "  I  am  not 
much  afraid  of  the  Indians  ;  but  I  will  go  before  I  will  be  called 
a  coward." 

Q.  State  what  followed  then.  A.  Well,  before  wc  got  through 
the  conversation  there,  General  Gillam — that  is,  there  was  not 
anj'thing  more  —  and  then  General  Gillam  gave  a  big  laugh,  and 
said  if  the  Indians  done  anything,  that  he  would  take  care  of  them, 
and  we  started  out,  and  General  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  started 
on  ahead ;  Mr.  Meacham  went  to  Tobcy  (my  wife) ,  and  asked  her 
if  she  thought  the  Indians  would  kill  him,  and  she  said,  "I  have 
told  you  all  I  can  tell  you ; "  she  said,  "  they  may  kill  you  to-da^-, 
and  they  may  not." 

Q.  You  heard  this?  A.  Yes.  "But,"  says  she,  "don't  go." 
By  that  time  General  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  had  got  some  one 
hundred  yards  ahead  of  us.  Bogus  Charley  walked  out ;  General 
Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas  walked ;  Mr.  D^'er,  Meacham,  and  Tobcy 
rode  horseback. 

The  CooKT.  Did  Bogus  Charley  walk  out  with  you?  A.  Yes; 
him  and  me  were  behind. 

The  Judge-Advocate.  Where  was  Boston  Charley  at  this  time  ? 
A.  If  I  am  not  mistaken  he  was  with  General  Canby  and  Dr. 
Thomas. 

Q.  Did  you  finally  arrive  at  the  peace  tent?    A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.  And  whom  did  you  find  there  ?  ^4.  I  found  Captain  Jack, 
Schonchin,  and  Black  Jim  (Ellen's  man) ,  who  is  dead,  they  say, 
Shacknasty  Jim,  and  Hooker  Jim. 

Q.  Were  there  any  others  ?  A.  There  were  no  others ;  well, 
Boston,  he  went  out  with  us,  and  Bogus  Charley ;  there  were  eight 
of  them  there. 

Q.  Eight  were  there  in  the  party?  A.  In  the  council;  yes, 
sir. 

Q.  What  took  place  after  you  met  these  Modocs  whom  you 
have  named  —  between  the  commissioners  and  thej'?  A.  Well, 
we  all  sat  down  around  a  little  fire  we  had  there,  built,  I  suppose, 
some  twenty  or  thirty  feet  from  the  peace  tent.  There  was  soine 
sage  brush  thrown  on,  and  we  were  all  sitting  around  the  little 
fire,  and  General  Canby  gave  them  all  a  cigar  apiece,  and  they  all 
sat  around  there  and  smoked  a  few  minutes,  and  then  they  went  to 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


G17 


talking ;  General  Canby,  I  think,  thougli  I  won't  bo  certain,  made 
the  first  speech,  and  told  them  that  ho  had  been  dealing  with  the 
Indians  for  some  thirty  years,  and  he  had  come  there  to  make 
peace  with  them  and  to  talk  good  ;  and  that  whatever  he  promised 
to  give  them  that  he  would  see  that  they  got ;  and  if  they  would 
come  and  go  out  with  him,  that  he  would  take  them  to  a  good 
countrj',  and  fix  them  up  so  that  they  could  live  like  white  people. 

Q.   Did  you  interpret  all  of  this  to  the  Indians?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  So  that  they  understood  it  ?  A.  Yes,  my  wife  and  me  did 
together. 

Q.  "Was  that  the  summary  of  General  Canby's  speech?  A. 
That  was  about  the  substance  of  his  speech,  with  the  exception 
that  he  told  them  that  he  had  a  couple  of  Indian  names  ;  that  he 
had  taken  Indians  on  to  a  reservation  once  before,  and  that  they 
all  liked  him,  and  had  given  him  a  name. 

Q.  General  Canby  said  that  ?  A.  Yes.  They  sat  and  laughed 
about  it.     I  disremember  the  name  now. 

Q.  Do  you  know  who  spoke  next?  A.  Mr.  Mcacham  spoke 
next,  and  he  told  them  he  had  come  there  to  make  peace  with 
them ;  that  their  Great  Father  from  Washington  had  scut  him 
there  to  make  peace,  and  wipe  out  all  of  the  blood  that  had  been 
shed,  and  to  take  them  to  some  country  where  thej-  could  have 
good  homes,  and  be  provided  with  blankets,  food,  and  the  like. 

Q.  That  was  Mr.  Meacham's  speech  ?  A.  Yes,  sir.  Dr.  Thom- 
as, he  said  a  few  words.  He  said  the  Great  Father  had  sent  him 
there  to  make  peace  with  them,  and  to  wipe  out  all  the  Ijlood  that 
had  been  shed,  and  not  to  have  any  more  trouble,  to  move  them 
out  of  this  country  here,  —  that  is,  the  place  where  they  were 
stopping. 

Q.  Mr.  Riddle,  do  you  know  whether  the  Lava  Beds  are  in  the 
State  of  California?  A.  Yes,  sir  ;  thej'  are.  I  could  not  be  cer- 
tain what  the  extent  of  them  is  ;  it  may  be  possible  a  small  portion 
of  them  is  in  Oregon. 

Q.  How  near  the  Lava  Beds  was  General  Gillam's  camp  ?  A. 
It  was  about  two  miles  and  a  half  from  Jack's  stronghold. 

Q.  IIow  near  to  the  Lava  Beds  was  the  peace  tent?  A.  It  was 
right  on  the  edge  of  it. 

Q.  What  distance  from  General  Gillam's  quarters  or  camp  ?  A. 
I  think  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile. 


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WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


Q.  Did  any  Modocs  reply  to  those  speeches?  A.  Captain 
Jack  spolvc. 

Q.  "What  did  ho  say;  can  you  remember?  A.  Yes,  I  can 
recollect  some  of  what  he  said.  He  said  tliat  he  didn't  want  to 
leave  this  country  here  ;  that  lie  knew  no  other  country  tlian  tliis  ; 
that  he  didn't  want  to  leave  here  ;  anil  that  he  had  given  up  Lost 
river ;  and  he  asked  for  Cottonwood  and  Willow  Creek ;  that  is 
over  near  Fairchild's. 

Q.  Id  Cottonwood  Creek  the  same  as  Hot  Creek?  A.  Tliey 
are  two  difrerent  creeks. 

Q.  What  did  he  mean  by  giving  up  Lost  river?  A.  lie  said 
there  was  where  the  fight  had  taicen  place  ;  and  that  he  didn't  want 
to  have  anything  more  to  do  there.  He  said  he  thought  that  was 
■what  the  fight  took  place  about,  —  that  country  there  ;  he  said  the 
whites  wanted  it. 

Q.  What  fight  do  you  refer  to  ?  A.  The  first  fight,  where  Major 
Jackson  went  down  to  bring  them  down  on  the  Reservation  ;  that 
was  in  November,  1872. 

Q.  Did  Captain  Jack  demand  Willow  Creek  and  Cottonwood 
Creek?     A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.   That  is,  the  land  around  this  place?    A.   Yes. 

Q.  To  live  on  ?    A.  Yes,  sir ;  he  wanted  a  reservation  there. 

Q.  Then  what  was  said,  or  what  occurred?  A.  Mr.  Meacham, 
then  he  made  another  speech,  and  he  told  Captain  Jack:  "Jack, 
Ictus  talk  like  men,  and  not  like  children,"  and  he  sort  of  hit  him 
on  the  knee  or  shoulder,  —  probably  hit  him  on  the  shoulder  once 
or  twice,  or  tapped  him,  —  he  said,  "Let  us  talk  like  men,  and 
not  talk  like  children."  He  said,  "  You  are  a  man  that  has  com- 
mon sense ;  isn't  there  any  other  place  that  will  do  you  except 
Willow  Creek  and  Cottonwood  ?  "  And  Mr.  Meacham  was  speak- 
ing rather  loud,  and  Schonchin  told  him  to  hush,  — told  him  in  In- 
dian to  hush ;  that  he  could  talk  a  straight  talk ;  to  let  him  talk. 
Just  as  Schonchin  said  that.  Captain  Jack  rose  up  and  stepped 
back,  sort  of  in  behind  Dj-er's  horse.  I  was  interpreting  for 
Schonchin,  and  I  was  not  noticing  Jack.  He  stepped  a  few  steps 
out  to  one  side,  and  I  seen  him  put'his  hand  in  his  bosom  lilce  — 

Q.  (Interrupting).  Did  you  perceive,  as  soon  as  you  got  there, 
that  these  men  were  armed?  A.  Yes,  sir;  I  did;  I  could  see 
some  of  them  were. 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


G19 


Q.  In  what  way  (lid  you  observe  that?  A.  I  saw  these  sticking 
out  of  their  clothes. 

Q.   You  saw  what?    A.   They  were  revolvers. 

Q,   Did  Captain  Jack  at  this  interview  represent  this  band? 

A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  And  these  other  men  listened  and  appeared  to  concur? 

A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Were  they  there  as  representatives  of  the  band  ?  A.  Yes, 
sir  ;  I  suppose  they  were. 

Q.  You  say  Captain  Jack  got  up  and  went  to  the  rear,  and  you 
saw  him  put  his  hand  to  I>is  breast?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Wliat  then  occurred  ?  A.  "Well,  he  stepped  back  and  came 
right  up  in  front  of  General  Canby,  and  said,  in  Indian,  "All 
ready,  boys,"  —  and  the  cap  burstcd,  and  before  you  could  crack 
your  linger  he  fired. 

Q.  You  say  this?  A.  Yes,  sir;  and  after  the  cap  bursted, 
before  you  could  craclc  your  finger,  he  fired  and  stioick  General 
Canby  under  the  ej'e,  and  the  ball  came  out  here  (showing). 
I  jumped  and  ran  then,  and  never  stopped  to  look  back  any 
more.  I  saw  General  Canby  fall  over,  and  I  expected  he  wag 
killed,  and  I  jumped  and  ran  Avith  all  my  might.  I  never 
looked  back  but  once,  and  when  I  looked  back  Mr.  Meacham 
was  down,  and  my  woman  was  down,  and  there  was  an  Indian 
standing  over  Mr.  Meacham  and  another  Indian  standing  over 
her,  and  some  two  or  tliree  coming  up  to  Mr.  Meacham.  Mr. 
Meacham  was  sort  of  lying  down  this  way  (showing) ,  and  had 
one  of  his  hands  sticking  out. 

Q.  You  saw  General  Canby  fall,  you  say?    A.   Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Did  he  continue  to  lie  where  he  fell?  A.  He  was  not  when 
they  found  him ;  he  was  about  thirty  or  forty  yards  from  there.  I 
did  not  see  him  get  up. 

Q.  As  soon  as  Captain  Jaclv  fired,  what  then  occurred?  A. 
They  commenced  firing  all  around.  I  could  not  tell  who  was  firing 
except  Schonchin  here  ;  I  see  him  firing  at  Mr.  Meacham,  but  the 
others  M'cre  kind  of  up  in  behind  me,  and  they  were  firing,  and  I 
did  not  tuin  around  to  look  to  see  who  it  was.  I  thought  it  was 
wariii.  time"  there, 

Q.  Eid  any  other  Indians  come  up?  A,  Just  as  the  fire  com- 
menced I  see  two  Indians  coming  up  packing  their  guns. 


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WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Q.  What  do  you  mean  by  "packing  their  guns"?  A.  They 
were  carrying  them  along  in  their  arms. 

Q.  How  many  had  each  man  ?  A.  I  could  not  tell ;  it  looked 
like  they  had  some  two  or  three  apiece. 

Q.  Can  you  identify  those  men?  A.  No,  sir,  I  cannot.  I 
did  not  stop  to  look  to  see  who  they  were.  I  saw  they  were 
Indians. 

ToBEY,  Riddle's  wife,  an  Indian,  called  for  the  prosecution,  being 
duly  sworn,  testified  as  follows :  — 

Qtiestion  by  the  judge-advocate.  What  is  your  name ;  is  your 
nameTobey?    Answer.  Yes. 

Q.  Did  you  think  they  were  going  to  kill  the  commissioners 
that  day?    A.   Yes. 

Q.  What  made  you  think  so  ?  A.  There  was  one  of  the  other 
Indians  told  me  so. 

Q.  Who  told  you  ?    A.  William ;  Whim  they  call  him. 

Q.  How  long  before  the  meeting  did  Whim  tell  you  this  ?  A. 
It  was  about  eight  or  ten  days. 

Q.  What  did  Whim  say  to  you?  A.  He  said  not  to  come  back 
any  more  ;  to  tell  the  peace  commissioners  not  to  meet  the  Indians 
any  more  in  council ;  that  they  were  going  to  kill  them. 

Q.  Did  you  tell  General  Canby  not  to  go?  A.  I  did  not  tell 
General  Canby ;  I  told  Meacham  and  Thomas. 

Q.   Did  Mr.  Meacham  believe  5'ou  ?    A.  Yes,  sir. 

Q.   Did  he  say  he  believed  you  ?    A.   Yes. 

Q.  What  was  done  with  the  bodies  of  Dr.  Thomas  and  General 
Canb}-  ?    A.   They  stripped  their  clothes  off  of  them. 

Q.  Did  you  see  them  do  that  ?  .4.  I  seen  them  strip  Dr.  Thomas. 
I  saw  Steamboat  Frank  taking  Dr.  Thomas's  coat.  Steamboat 
Frank  was  one  of  the  three  that  came  up. 


The  above  questions  and  answers  were  duly  interpreted  to  the 
prisoners  by  the  sworn  interpreter,  Riddle. 

The  judge-advocate  then  asked  the  prisoners  severally  if  they 
desired  to  cross-examine  the  witness,  to  which  they  replied  in  tlie 
negative. 

The  commission  had  no  question  to  put  to  the  witnesa 


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WIOWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


623 


L.  S.  Dyeb,  a  citizen,  called  for  the  prosecution,  being  duly 
sworn,  testified  as  follows :  — 

Question  by  tTie  ,'^idge-advoccUe.  State  your  name.  Answer.  L.  S. 
Dyer. 

Q.  What  is  your  business?  A.  I  am  a  United  States  Indian 
agent. 

Q.  Of  the  Klamath  agency?    J    Yes,  sir. 

Q.  Docs  that  include  the  Modou^  .^    A.  Yes,  sir 

Q.   Do  you  recognize  the  prisoners  at  the  bar?    A.  I  do. 

Q.  Do  you  recognize  them  all?    A.  No,  sir. 

Q.  Who  is  that  one  with  a  handkerchief  on  his  head?  A.  Cap- 
tain Jack. 

Q.'  Who  is  the  next  one  this  way?    A.  John  Scbonchin. 

Q.  And  this  one  ?  A.  Boston, — sometimes  called  Boston  Charley. 

Question  by  commission.  I  understood  you  to  say  that  Superin- 
tendent Meacham  got  these  Modocs  back  into  the  Reservation  once 
or  twice  before.    Answer.   Once  before. 

Question  by  commission.  With  or  without  the  assistance  of  the 
military?  Answer.  He  had  a  few  soldiers.  I  only  know  this  from 
the  records  and  reports  in  the  office. 

The  foregoing  questions  and  answers  were  all  duly  interpreted  to 
the  prisoners. 

The  commission  thereupon  adjourned  to  meet  on  Monday  nc^c, 
the  7th  instant,  at  10  A.M. 

H.  P.  CURTIS, 
Judge-Advocate  of  Commission, 


THIRD  DAY. 

FoBT  Ki.iJtATH,  Obiooh,  July  7, 1878. 

The  commission  met  pursuant  to  adjournment. 

Present,  all  the  members  named  in  the  order,  the  judge-advocate, 
and  the  prisoners. 

The  proceedings  of  the  previous  session  were  read  and 
approved. 


H 


624 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


Shacknasty  Jim,  a  Modoc  Indian,  a  witness  for  the  prosecution, 
having  been  first  cautioned  by  the  judge-advocate  of  the  punish- 
ment of  false  swearing,  was  then  duly  sworn. 

Question  by  jiidge-advocate.  What  is  your  name?  Answer. 
Shacknasty  Jim. 

Q.  Do  you  remember  when  General  Canby  was  killed  ?  A.  Yes ; 
I  know. 

Q.  Were  you  present.    A.  Yes. 

Q.  Did  you  know  that  he  and  the  commissioners  were  to  be 
killed.    A.  Yes. 

Q.   How  did  you  know  it?    A.   They  had  a  talk  at  night. 

Q.  When  was  this  talk?  How  long  before?  A.  The  evening 
before. 

Q.  Who  talked?  A.  Most  of  the  Indians ;  the  two  chiefs  were 
talking. 

Q.  What  two  chiefs  ?    A.   Captain  Jack  and  Schonchin. 

Q.  Did  3'ou  hear  them  state  they  meant  to  kill  them?  A.  I 
didn't  hear  them  say  they  were  going  to  kill  them. 

Q.  What  did  you  hear  them  say?  A.  I  heard  them  talking 
about  killing  the  commissioners :  thct  is  all  I  heard  them  say.  I 
didn't  hear  them  say  who  was  going  to  do  it. 

Q.  How  long  before  the  meeting  of  the  peace  commissiouers 
when  General  Canby  was  killed  was  this  talk?  A.  I  almost 
forget.  I  don't  want  to  lie.  I  have  forgotten  how  many  days  it 
was. 

Q.  What  Indians  were  at  that  meeting  of  April  11,  when 
General  Canby  was  shot?  A.  Schonchin,  Captain  Jack,  Ellen's 
man  (dead).  I  was  there,  and  Black  Jim,  Boston,  B  >gus Charley, 
and  Hooker  Jim ;  there  were  eight. 


Steamboat  Frank,  a  Modoc  witness  for  the  prosecution, 
duly  sworn,  being  duly  warned  against  the  consequences  of 
perjury. 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  What  is  your  name  ?  Answer.  I 
am  called  Steamboat  Frank. 

Q.  Were  you  present  at  the  death  of  General  Canby?    A.  Yes. 
Q.  How  did  you  get  there?   A.  I  was  about  as  far  as  from  here 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


625 


to  the  end  of  the  stables  (about  four  hundred  yards)  when  the  firii^ 
commenced. 

Q.  Whom,  if  any  one,  were  you  with  there?    A.  With  Scar- 
faced  Charley. 


The  judge-advocate  now  called  Boons  Chablet  as  witness  for 
the  prosecution,  who,  being  first  cautioned  of  the  consequence  of 
perjury,  was  duly  sworn,  and  testified  as  follows :  — 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  What  is  your  name  as  comnM}nly 
called?    Answer.  Bogus  Charley. 

Q.  Were  you  present  at  the  death  of  General  Canby? 
A.  Yes. 


Hooker  Jm,  a  Modoc,  a  witness  for  the  prosecution,  being 
first  cautioned  of  the  consequence  and  punishment  for  perjury, 
was  duly  sworn. 

Question.  What  is  your  English  name?    Answer,  Hooker  Jim. 

Q.  Were  you  present  when  General  Canby  was  killed  1  A.  1 
was. 

Q.  Did  you  know  he  and  the  commissioners  were  to  be  killed? 
A.  I  did. 

Q.  Are  you  now  a  friend  tc  Captain  Jack?  A.  I  have  been  a 
friend  of  Captain  Jack,  but  I  don't  know  what  he  got  mad  at  me 
for. 

Q.  Have  yon  ever  had  a  quarrel  or  fight  with  hiui?  A.  I  had 
a  quarrel  and  a  little  fight  with  him  over  to  Dry  lake,  beyond  the 
Lava  Beds. 

Q.  How  did  you  know  the  commissioners  were  going  to  be 
killed?  A.  Captain  Jack  and  Schonchin — I  heard  them  talking 
about  it. 

Q.  Where  were  they  when  yon  heard  them?  A.  At  Captain 
Jack's  house. 

Question  by  commission.  What  part  were  you  detailed  to  take  in 
it,  if  any,  in  murdering  the  commissioners?  Answer.  I  ran  Dyer 
and  shot  at  him. 

Qnation  by  oommission.  Had  you  agreed  to  kill  one  of  the  par- 


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626 


WIOWAU  AND  WABFATH. 


ties  before  the  attack?    Answer.    I  said  I  would  kill  one  if  I 
could. 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  Do  you  like  Captain  Jack  now,  or 
dislike  him?    Answer.  I  don't  like  liim  very  well  now. 

The  judge-advocate  then  asked  each  one  of  the  prisoners,  suc- 
cessively, if  they  desired  to  cross-examine  this  witness,  to  which 
they  replied  in  the  negative. 

WnxiAM  (Whim)  ,  Modoc,  called  for  the  prosecution,  and  warned 
against  the  penalties  of  perjury,  was  then  duly  sworn. 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  What  is  your  name?  Answer.  Whim, 
or  William. 

Q.  Were  you  with  the  Modoc  Indians  in  the  Lava  Beds  ?  A.  Yes. 

Q.  Do  you  remember  when  General  Canby  was  killed?  A.  Yes, 
I  know  that  they  went  to  kill  him. 

Q.  Did  you  know  that  he  was  going  to  be  killed?  A.  Yes,  I 
knew  they  were  going  to  kill  him. 

Q.  Did  you  know  they  were  going  to  kiU  the  peace  commissioners  ? 
A.  Yes. 

Q.  Were  you  at  the  killing?    A.  No,  I  didn't  go. 

Q.  How  did  you  know  they  were  going  to  kill  them  ?  A.  1 
heard  Jack  and  Schonchin  talking  about  it. 

Q.  Any  one  else?  A.  That  is  all  that  I  heard  say  anything 
about  it. 

Q.  How  long  was  this  before  the  killing?  A.  I  don't  know 
exactlj',  but  it  was  eight  or  ten  days. 

Q.  Did  you  speak  to  anybody  about  it  ?  A.  Yes,  I  told  about  it. 

Q.  Whom?    A.  I  told  this  woman  here  (Tobey,  Riddle's  wife). 

Q.  What  did  you  tell  her?  A.  I  told  her  to  tell  the  peace  com- 
missioners not  to  come ;  that  I  did  not  want  to  see  them  killed. 

The  judge-advocate  then  asked  each  prisoner,  successively,  if  he 
desired  to  cross-examine  this  witness ;  each  answered  in  the  negative. 
The  commission  desired  to  put  no  questions. 


While  this  man  is  under  examination  as  a  witness, 
A.  B.  Meacham  enters  the  court-room.     The  prison- 


WIOWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


627 


ers  fix  their  eyes  on  him  steadfastly.    Until  now, 
they  had  doubted  his  recovery  from  his  wounds. 

A.  B.  Meacham,  citizen,  called  for  the  prosecution,  duly  sworn, 
testified  as  follows :  — 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  What  is  your  name?  ^watocr.  Alfted 
B.  Meacham. 

Q.  Are  you  a  citizen  of  the  United  States  7    A.  I  am. 

Q.  What  position  did  you  hold  in  connection  with  the  late  war 
with  the  Modocs  ?  A.  1  was  appointed  by  Secretary  Delano  as 
chairman  of  the  peace  commissioners,  .  ,  special  commissioner. 

Q.    Now  state  what  occurred  next. 

A.  During  the  day  the  propositions  that  were  made  by  Boston, 
that  is,  on  Thursday,  were  accepted  by  Dr.  Thomas,  and  an  agree- 
ment made  to  meet  Captain  Jack  and  five  men,  unarmed,  at  eleven 
o'clock ;  all  parties  unarmed  at  the  council  tent  on  Friday.  I 
knew  this  agreement  to  have  been  made  by  Dr.  Thomas  on  the 
evening  of  the  10th,  on  my  return  from  Boyle's  camp  that  night. 

Q.    Did  he  give  it  toyou  ofl^cially? 

A.  Yes,  sir.  When  I  started  on  the  visit  to  Boyle's  camp,  I 
said  to  Dr.  Thomas,  if  occasion  requires  my  presence  in  any  busi- 
ness, you  will  act  in  my  capacity  as  chairman  of  the  commission  ; 
and  as  acting  chairman  of  the  commission  he  made  this  arrange- 
ment, and  so  notified  me. 

Q.    After  that  what  followed? 

A.  I  protested  against  the  meeting,  but  subsequently  yielded 
to  the  opinions  of  Gen.  Canby  and  Dr.  Thomas,  —  Mr.  Dyer  and 
I  dissenting. 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  Had  General  Canby  a  weapon  on 
his  person? 

A.    Not  that  I  am  aware  of. 

Q.    Had  Dr.  Thomas? 

A.    I  know  he  had  not. 

All  the  foregoing  testimony  was  faithfully  interpreted  to  the 
prisoners. 

The  commission  thereupon  adjourned  to  meet  at  9.30  A.  M. 
to-morrow  morning. 


':1ft 

:  m 

■:    ^'i 
>.r,:>li|l 

m 


1 .  I'Ti 
i  'ji'i'!.: 


m 


698 


WiaWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


The  prisoners  are  remanded  to  the  guard-house. 
They  hesitate,  and  cast  anxious  glances  at  Meacham, 
who  is  exchanging  salutations  with  members  of  the 
court. 

Meaoham.    "  Have  the  prisoners  no  counsel  ?  " 

Col.  Elliott.  **  They  have  been  unAble  to  obtain 
counsel.     The  usual  question  was  asked  them." 

Meacham.  "  It  seems  to  me  that,  for  the  honor 
and  credit  of  the  Government,  and  in  order  to  have 
all  the  facts  drawn  out  and  placed  on  record,  counsel 
should  have  been  appointed." 

Col.  Elliott.  "We  are  perfectly  willing,  and 
would  much  prefer  it;  but  there  is  no  lawyer  here, 
and  we  must  go  on  without." 

Meacham.  "I  have  no  disposition  to  shield  the 
prisoners  from  justice,  but  I  do  feel  that  to  close  up 
all  gaps,  and  make  the  record  complete,  all  the  cir- 
cumstances should  be  drawn  out.  Not  because  any- 
thing could  be  shown  that  would  justify  their  crimes, 
but  because  it  is  in  harmony  with  right  and  justice. 
Sooner  than  have  it  said  that  this  was  an  ex-parte 
trial,  I  will  appear  myself  as  their  counsel,  —  by  your 
consent." 

Col.  Elliott.  "  Certainly,  we  are  willing,  and  if 
you  say  you  will  appear  as  their  counsel,  we  will  have 
your  name  entered  on  the  record.  Certainly,  Mr. 
Meacham,  we  are  more  than  willing.  It  would  be  an 
act  of  magnanimity  on  your  part  that  is  without  a  pre- 
cedent. You  know  all  the  facts  in  the  case  and  could, 
perhaps,  bring  them  out  better  than  any  other  man." 

Meacham.  "  I  know  that  my  motives  would  be 
misconstrued,  and  I  would  have  another  storm  of  in- 
dignation hurled  upon  me  by  the  press.    But  that 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


629 


does  not  intimidate  me;  I  only  fear  my  strengtli  is 
not  sufRcient.  It  is  only  sixty  days  since  the  assassi- 
nation, and  I  have  been  twice  across  the  continent, 
and  am  still  feeble.  However,  I  will  report  to  yoii 
to-morrow  morning  my  conclusion." 

Judge- Advocate  Curtis  remarks :  *'  Mr.  Meacham, 
I  wish  you  would  take  hold  of  this  matter;  there  is 
no  one  else  that  can;  and,  if  you  will,  every  courtesy 
shall  be  extended  to  you.  The  witnesses  can  be 
recalled  for-cross  examination.  I  should  be  better 
satisfied  to  have  counsel  for  the  prisoners." 

Meaciiam.  "I  will  take  the  matter  under  con- 
sideration, and  in  the  mean  time  I  desire  an  interview 
with  the  prisoners." 

Col.  Elliott.  **  Most  certainly,  you  can  apply  to 
the  *  officer  of  the  day,'  and  he  will  make  the 
necessary  order." 

In  the  guard  house,  Captain  Jack  and  Schonchin 
are  brought  out  of  the  cell  chained  together.  There 
is  music  in  the  clanking  chain  that  sounds  harsh, 
severe,  and  causes  a  shudder,  which  soon  gives  way 
before  the  logic  of  justice.  These  chieftains  come 
with  slow  steps  and  eyes  fixed  intently  on  Meacham. 
They  extend  their  hands  in  token  of  friendly  greeting. 
Meacham  refuses.  "  !No,  Captain  Jack,  your  hands 
are  red  with  Canby's  blood;  I  cannot,  now." 

Schonchin  still  holds  out  the  same  hand  that  fired 
repeated  shots  at  Meacham. 

"  'No,  Schonchin,  your  hands  ar*^  "'^d  with  my  own 
blood;  I  cannot,  I  will  not  now." 

Schonchin  places  his  hand  on  Meacham's  arm.  He 
presses  it  slightly.  An  Indian  grunt  signals  his 
satisfaction  with  his  experiment.    He   now  realizes 


1 1 


iiii 

.  I'll  I 


l!.kit^ 


!i' 


'm 


630 


TVIOWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


that  Meacham  is  not  dead.  Up  to  this  time  he  had 
been  doubtful.  He  looks  with  intenso  interest  at  the 
wounds  he  had  made  in  his  effort  to  kill  this  man  ou 
the  11th  April. 

Captain  Jack  is  anxious  to  talk  about  the  trial. 
Meacham  inquires,  "  Why  did  you  not  have  a  lawyer 
to  talk  for  you?  " 

Captain  Jack.  *'  I  don't  know  any  lawyer  that 
imderstands  this  affair.  They  coukl  not  do  mc 
any  good.  Everybody  is  against  me;  even  the 
Modocs  are  turned  against  me.  I  have  but  few 
friends.    I  am  alone. 

Meacham.  "  You  can  talk  yourself.  The  news- 
papers say,  '  Captain  Jack  has  spoken  for  his  race; 
now  let  extermination  be  the  cry.' " 

Captain  Jack.  "  I  know  that  the  white  man  has 
many  voices:  they  tell  one  side,  they  do  not  tell  the 
other." 

Meacham.  "  Tell  the  other  yourself.  You  can  talk: 
iN'ow  speak  for  your  race.  Tell  the  other  side.  The 
world  will  read  it." 

Fixing  his  eye  on  Meacham  very  intently  Captain 
Jack  says,  "  Meacham,  you  talk  for  me." 

Meacham.  "  No,  Captain  Jack,  I  cannot  talk  for 
you.  I  saw  you  kill  Gen.  Canby.  I  cannot  talk  for 
you.  If  you  had  shot  me  as  Schonchin  did,  I  would 
talk  for  you.  As  it  is,  I  cannot.  I  will  not  talk  for 
Schonchin;  he  was  all  the  time  in  favor  of  blood." 

Schonchin  breaks  in,  saying,  "I  did  not  kill  you; 
you  did  not  die.  I  am  an  old  man.  I  was  excited;  I 
did  not  shoot  good.  The  others  all  laughed  at  me;  I 
quit.  You  shoot  me.  You  don't  want  me  *o  die. 
You  did  not  die." 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


631 


Captain  Jack.  **I  cannot  talk  with  the  chains 
on  my  legs.  My  heart  is  not  strong,  when  the 
chain  is  on  my  leg.  You  can  talk  strong.  You  talk 
for  me." 

An  hour  later,  Meacham  is  in  consultation  with  his 
friends,  including  the  army  surgeon.  There  is  but 
one  opinion  in  regard  to  Meacham  offering  himself  as 
counsel  for  the  Modoes,  aside  nom  the  newspaper 
comments,  —  that  it  will  cost  bim  iiis  life.  He  is  not 
sufficiently  recovered  from  tho  shot^^  of  the  Lava  Bed 
tragedy  of  April  11th. 

JULY  EIGHTH.    FOURTH  DAY. 

Military  commission  assembled.  Meacham  has  de- 
cided that  he  cannot  appear  as  counsel  for  the 
prisoners. 

They  are  brought  into  court;  proceedings  of 
previous  meeting  read  and  approved;  H.  R.  Ander- 
son, lieutenant  of  Fourth  Artillery,  duly  sworn.  His 
evidence  was  chiefly  in  regard  to  Gen.  Canby's  re- 
lation to  the  Government,  the  Army,  and  the  Peace 
Commission. 

Q.  What  command  did  he  hold,  if  any,  at  the  time  of  his  death  ? 
A.  Department  of  the  Columbia,  and  adviser  to  the  peace  commis- 
sion under  telegraphic  instructions  from  Washington. 

Q.  Was  he  in  receipt  of  instructions  from  any  source  as  to  the 
course  ho  was  to  pursue ;  was  he  receiving  instructions  from  time 
to  time  ?  A.  Yes,  sir,  from  time  to  time ;  from  commanding 
General  of  the  Army. 

Q.  What  kind  of  instructions  were  they  ?  Did  yon  see  them 
yourself?    A.  Yes,  sir ;  generally  teleg^r&phic  instructions. 

Q.  What  was  their  nature  ?  What  did  they  instruct  him  to  do  ? 
A.  Instructed  him  to  use  his  utmost  endeavors  to  bring  about  a 
peaceable  termination  of  the  trouble. 


m 


li:':;: 


632 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Q.  What  relation  did  he  hold  with  the  peace  commissioners? 
A.  He  was  ordered  down  there  to  consult  and  advise  with  them. 

Q.  Do  you  remember  General  Canby's  initials?  A.  E.  R.  S. ; 
his  full  name  was  Edward  Richard  Sprigg  Canby. 

Henry  C.  McEldert,  assistant  surgeon  U.  S.  A.,  called  for 
prosecution,  sworn,  testified  as  follows :  — 

Question  by  judge-advocate.  Did  you  see  the  body  of  General 
Canby  after  his  decease  ?  A.  1  did,  sir ;  I  saw  it  on  the  field  on 
the  evening  of  April  11. 

Q.  Was  the  general  dead?  A.  Yes,  sir;  he  was  quite  dead 
when  I  saw  him. 

Q.  Please  describe  his  condition.  A.  He  had  been  entirely 
stripped  of  every  article  of  clothing.  He  had  three  wounds  on  his 
body,  and  several  abrasions  of  the  face.  One  of  the  wounds,  ap- 
parently made  by  a  ball,  was  about  at  the  inner  canthus  of  the 
left  eye.  The  edges  of  that  wound  were  depressed,  as  if  the  ball 
had  entered  there 

Q.  Did  you  see  Dr.  Thomas's  body?  A.  I  saw  him.  There 
were  several  gunshot  wounds  in  his  body,  but  I  don't  recollect  suf- 
ficient to  swear  to  the  exact  locality  of  each  one. 

Q.  What  was  your  opinion  as  to  the  cause  of  his  death  ?  A.  J 
think  the  gunshot  wound  over  his  heart  was  the  cause  of  his  death. 

Q.  Did  he  die  of  wounds  received  on  that  day?  A.  I  think 
the  wounds  that  I  saw  were  sufficient  to  cause  his  death ;  yes,  sir. 


Testimont  for  Defence. 

Scar-face  Charley  is  sworn,  and  testifies  at  length; 
the  main  feature  of  which  is  that  they  have  been  en- 
couraged by  the  Klamath  Indians  to  resist  the  Gov- 
ernment. 

Dave  —  a  Modoc  —  is  next  called.  His  testimony 
is  of  similar  character,  endeavoring  to  involve  other 
Indians  with  the  Modocs.     .     .     . 

One-eyed  Mose  is  sworn  for  defence;  nothing  new 
is  elicited  from  this  witness.     Captain  Jack  states  that 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


633 


he  had  no  further  testimony  to  oflfer.  He  is  informed 
by  the  court,  that  he  is  at  liberty  to  make  a  statement. 
He  rises  with  some  hesitation;  first  casting  his  eyes 
at  his  chains,  he  mutters  in  his  native  tongue,  that  he 
"  cannot  talk  very  well  with  the  irons  on  his  legs ; "  he 
proceeds  to  scan  the  court  and  spectators  deliber- 
ately. The  sight  of  uniforms  and  bayonets  does  not 
inspire  the  chieftain.  It  is  evident  that  he  feels  the 
hopelessness  of  his  cause;  that  he  is  no  longer  the 
brave,  strong  man  that  he  was  when  free  and  untram- 
melled. There  were  elements  in  this  man's  character, 
before  his  subjugation,  that  qualified  him  to  make  a 
strong  effort  He  is  now  unmanned,  and  the  chief 
who  has  made  so  gi*eat  a  name  as  a  warrior  is  now  a 
mere  pettifogger.  Few  passages  in  his  speech  are 
worthy  of  a  place  in  history.  The  whole  burden  of 
it  is  to  shift  the  responsibility  from  his  own  shoulders. 
He  does  not  refer  to  his  troubles  on  Klamath  Res- 
ervation; censures  his  own  people;  censures  Major 
Jackson  for  the  manner  of  the  first  attack,  exonerates 
Roseborough  and  Steele  of  ever  giving  him  bad  advice ; 
asserts  positively  that  he  was  always  in  favor  of  peace, 
that  the  Hot  Creek  squaws  reported  that  the  Peace 
Commissioners  intended  burning  him  and  his  men; 
that  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  they  intended  to 
kill  him.  Hooker  Jim  was  the  leader  of  the  war- 
party;  asseics  that  he  was  constantly  ridiculed  by 
Hooker  and  others;  called  a  "squaw"  and  a  coward; 
that  the  scouts,  Hooker,  Bogus,  Steamboat  Frank 
and  Shacknasty,  were  all  in  favor  of  killing  the 
commissioners;  Hooker  especially  "wanted  to  kill 
Meacham ; "  finally,  that  the  majority  of  the  tribe 
have   overruled  him   and    di'iven    him   against   his 


ijiiii 


;'r. , 


634 


WIGWAM  AND   WABPATH. 


judgment  into  crime.  Take  his  speech  all  in  all,  it 
was  not  up  to  the  record  he  made  as  a  fighting  man. 
He  concludes  by  saying  he  did  not  know  how  to 
talk  in  such  a  place  with  irons  on  his  feet. 

Schonchin  makes  a  short  speech,  blaming  others 
for  his  misfortunes,  especially  the  Klamath  Indians. 
Major  Curtis  reviews  only  so  much  of  the  testimony 
and  speeches  as  refer  to  Maj.  Jackson,  clearing  his 
name  from  unfair  imputation. 

The  court  again  adjourns,  a  few  minutes  after  which 
Col.  Lewis,  a  lawyer  of  Colusi,  Cal.,  arrives,  and  is  much 
chagrined  to  find  "  the  trial  over,"  as  he  intended  to 
offer  his  services  as  counsel  for  the  prisoners.  Too 
late.  The  trial  is  closed.  It  would  not  have  changed 
the  result,  although  it  might  have  changed  the  record 
of  testimony.  So  ends  the  trial  of  the  murderers  of 
Canby  and  Thomas.  The  findings  of  the  court  can- 
not be  doubted,  although  they  are  not  made  known. 
This  trial  has  been  conducted  with  fairness  on  the 
part  of  the  Government;  but  it  was,  after  all,  a  one- 
sided tribunal,  from  the  fact  that  the  prisoners  had  no 
counsel.  Those  who  constituted  the  court  were  all 
men  of  character ;  exhibited  no  partiality  or  injustice 
toward  the  unfortunate  red  men,  whose  lives  were  in 
their  hands.  While  no  censure  rests  on  the  court,  it 
is,  nevertheless,  a  cause  of  complaint  that  Hooker 
Jim,  Bogus  Charley,  Steomboat  Frank,  and  Shack- 
nasty  Jim,  who  were  the  worst  men  of  the  Modoc 
tribe,  should  be  allowed  to  go  free  from  arrest  and 
trial.  Gen.  Davis  had  made  no  promises.  He  ex- 
pected they  would  be  tried  and  convicted,  and  sen- 
tenced to  imprisonment  for  life.  The  argument  that 
was  used  by  Judge  Advocate  Curtis,  that  they  had 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


635 


been  of  invaluable  service  as  scouts,  and  had  done  so 
much  to  bring  the  Modoc  war  to  an  end,  is  not  based 
on  sound  principles  of  right;  but  for  these  very  men 
Canby  and  Thomas  would  not  have  died;  peace 
would  have  been  made,  and  more  than  one  hundred 
lives  would  have  been  saved.  That  it  was  policy  to 
pardon  these  men  as  an  encouragement  to  other  In- 
dians to  betray  their  people  is  not  good  logic,  when  it 
is  understood  that  they  were  the  real  instigators  of 
the  treacheroTis  deeds  of  the  Modocs.  If  the  Modocs 
were  a  nation  at  war  with  the  Government,  all  were 
alike  entitle'!  to  be  treated  as  prisoners  of  war.  If 
they  were  cimply  part  and  parcel  of  the  people  of 
the  United  States,  then  they  were  not  enemies,  and 
no  action  of  a  military  judge-advocate  could  absolve 
them  from  the  crime  of  murder,  committed  on  the 
citizens  of  Oregon  in  IS'ov.,  1872. 

As  the  matter  was  settled,  no  one  had  a  voice  in 
regard  to  putting  them  on  trial  except  the  judge- 
advocate,  and  he  exercised  only  a  presumptive  pre- 
rogative. 

The  finding  of  the  court  has  been  approved.  Cap- 
tain Jack,  Schonchin,  Black  Jim,  Boston  Charley, 
Barncho  and  Slolux,  are  sentenced  to  death.  The 
thh'd  of  October  has  been  designated  as  the  day  for 
the  execution. 

Gov.  Grover,  of  Oregon,  has  demanded  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Government  to  the  subject  of  the  indict- 
raento.  If  any  action  has  evtr  been  taken  it  has  not 
been  made  public. 


liii'ii 


■■:n 


iil'I'l 


-u 


iiii; 


isi  Villi 


CHAPTER    XXXyil. 


THE  EXECUTION  —  THE  ROYAL  CHIEF  OUT  OF  CHAINS. 


The  Modocs,  men,  women,  and  children,  who 
were  not  placed  on  trial,  were  confined  in  a  stockade 
near  the  fort,  except  the  traitor  scouts,  who  enjoyed 
the  liberty  of  the  camp,  and  were  the  heroes  of  the 
day. 

At  various  times  between  the  trial  and  the  execu- 
tion, the  prisoners  were  permitted  to  visit  the  stock- 
ade. Their  families  were  also  allowed  to  visit  them 
occasionally  in  the  "  guard-house." 

On  leaving  Fort  Klamath,  after  the  trial  and  before 
the  execution,  I  visited  the  prisoners,  and  shook 
hands  with  them,  in  token  of  forgiveness  as  far  as  I 
was  concerned. 

I  was  satisfied  that  justice  would  be  meted  out  to 
those  who  had  been  placed  on  trial.  Captain  Jack 
seemed  to  correctly  anticipate  the  result,  and  ques- 
tioned me  as  to  his  fate,  expressing  a  great  dread  of 
being  hanged. 

He  said  that  but  one  side  of  the  story  had  been 
told;  that  he  had  no  friends  to  talk  for  him.  I 
assured  him  that  he  had  been  fairly  dealt  with;  that 
the  officers  who  had  tried  him  were  all  good  men 
and  had  not  done  and  would  not  do  him  injustice, 
and  that  I  would  write  out  a  fair  statement  of  all 
the  facts  for  everybody  to  read. 

He  clung  to  m^  hand  to  the  last  moment.    I  left 


WIGWAM  Am)  WARPATn. 


637 


him  with  feelings  of  commiseration  for  him,  and  with 
a  firm  resolution  to  keep  my  promise,  to  tell  his  story 
for  him. 

It  is  now  October  2d,  1873.  A  long  scaffold  is 
erected;  a  more  finished  machine  than  the  one  on 
the  peninsula.  Ghastly  and  gloomy,  it  stands  out 
on  the  open  plat  of  meadow,  with  six  ropes  hanging 
from  the  beams. 

The  traitor  scouts  seem  to  take  great  interest  in 
this  instiounent  of  death,  which  they  have  unjustly 
escaped. 

Whether  conscience  troubles  these  worthies  is  a 
matter  of  some  doubt;  but  that  they  were  exempt 
from  execution  was  a  very  satisfactory  arrangement 
to  them,  —  though  to  no  one  else,  except  their  own 
families. 

On  the  day  before  the  execution.  Gen.  Wheaton, 
accompanied  by  a  Catholic  priest  (Father  Hu  ^em- 
borg).  Post  Chaplain,  with  Oliver  Applegate  and 
Dave  HIW,  a  Klamath  Indian,  as  interpreter,  visited 
the  prison  for  the  purpose  of  informing  the  doomed 
men  of  the  sentence. 

The  venerable  father  opened  the  painful  interview 
by  shaking  hands  with  the  convicts.  He  told  them 
'.hat  Chiist  died  for  all  men;  that  if  they  accepted 
him  they  would  be  saved.  The  prisoners  listened 
attentively  to  every  word.  This  was  especially  the 
case  with  Captain  Jack,  and  Schonchin. 

Gen.  "Wheaton  then  requested  the  chaplain  to  in- 
form them  of  the  decision  of  the  President.  He  did 
BO  in  a  few  feeling  words.  While  it  was  being  inter- 
preted to  them  not  a  muscle  moved;  no  sound  was 
heard  save  the  voice  of  the  speakers. 


lilH    Hi 


'■I. 
nil 


638 


WiaWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


The  scene  was  a  very  impressive  one.  After  a  few 
moments  of  awful  silence,  the  lips  of  the  fallen  chief 
began  to  move.  His  voice  was  soft,  low,  and  scarcely 
audible:  — 


"  I  have  heard  the  sentence,  and  I  know  what  it 
means.  When  I  look  in  my  heart  I  see  no  crime.  I 
was  in  favor  of  peace:  the  young  men  were  not 
ready  for  peace,  —  they  carried  me  with  them.  I 
feel  that  while  these  four  men  — *  Bogus,  Shacknasty, 
Hooker,  and  Steamboat  —  are  free,  they  have  tri- 
umphed over  me  and  over  the  Government.  When 
I  surrendered  I  expected  to  be  pardoned,  and  to  live 
with  my  people  on  Klamath  land." 

When  asked  by  Gen.  Wheaton,  which  member  of 
the  tribe  he  wished  to  take  charge  of  the  people,  he 
evinced  some  emotion.  After  a  short  pause,  he  replied, 
"I  can  think  of  no  one;  I  cannot  trust  even  Scar- 
faced  Charley."  He  asked  if  there  was  no  hope  of 
pardon.  When  assured  that  the  sentence  would  be 
executed,  he  again  asked  if  both  sides  of  the  case  had 
been  laid  before  the  President. 

On  being  told  that  the  President  had  been  informed 
of  all  that  had  been  done,  an  ^  that  he  need  not  enter- 
tain any  hope  of  life,  but  to  pay  attention  to  what  the 
chaplain  said,  he  replied,  "  I  know  that  what  he  says 
is  good,  and  I  shall  follow  his  advice.  I  should  like 
to  live  until  I  die  a  natural  death." 

Slolux,  one  of  the  young  Modocs  who  carried  the 
rifles  to  the  council  tent  on  the  morning  of  the  assas- 
sination, w^s  next  to  speak.  He  denied  any  part  in 
the  terrible  crime,  as  did  Bamcho. 


Boston    Cuablet. 


If 


iiiii 


I 


p:;i 


i* 


•M 


ti 


Bla( 
He  wa 
the  tril 
and  S( 
Jim  cc 
guilty 
I  am  i 
spirit  n 

Capt 
laved  u 
dent,  ai 
stigatec 
quest  a 
speaker 


You  al 

two  hearts 

and  3''et  yt 

like  a  mar 

other  men 

man  in  tl 

Steamboat 

half  a  wor 

Bogus.     13 

sioners  me 

said,  "Id 

"All  right 

and  bid  th( 

to  see  them 

amount  to 

chief  men 

not  take  s 

men.    I  kn 

know  it. 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


641 


Black  Jim,  half-brother  to  Captain  Jack,  spoke  next. 
He  was  anxious  to  live  that  he  might  take  care  of 
the  tribe ;  saying,  "  I  don't  know  what  Captain  Jack 
and  Schonchin  think  of  it."  Jack  shook  his  head. 
Jim  continued,  "  If  the  white  chief's  law  says  I  am 
guilty  of  crime,  let  me  die.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die. 
I  am  afraid  of  nothing.  I  should  like  to  hear  the 
spirit  man's  talk." 

Captain  Jack  again  asked  that  the  execution  be  de- 
layed until  his  speech  could  be  laid  before  the  Presi- 
dent, as  perhaps  he  did  not  know  who  it  was  that  in- 
stigated the  murder  of  Canby  and  Thomas.  This  re- 
quest also  was  denied.  Boston  Charley  was  the 
speaker;  he  created  a  sensation:  — 

A     ODILTT  INDIAN. 


You  all  know  me ;  during  the  war  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
two  hearts  —  one  Indian  and  the  other  white.  lam  only  a  boy, 
and  3'^et  you  all  know  what  I  have  done.  Although  a  boy  I  feel 
like  a  man,  and  when  I  look  on  each  side  of  me  I  think  of  these 
other  men  as  women.  I  do  not  fear  death.  I  think  I  am  the  only 
man  in  the  room.  I  fought  in  the  front  rank  with  Shacknastj-, 
Steamboat,  Bogus  and  Hooker.  I  am  altogether  a  man,  and  not 
half  a  woman.  I  killed  Dr.  Thomas,  assisted  by  Steamboat  and 
Bogus.  Bogus  said  to  me,  "  Do  you  believe  that  these  commis- 
sioners mean  to  try  to  make  a  peace?  "  I  said,  "  I  believe  so."  He 
said,  "I  don't;  they  want  to  lead  us  into  some  trap."  I  said, 
"  All  right  —  I  go  with  j^ou."  I  would  like  to  see  all  my  people 
and  bid  them  good-by  to-day.  I  would  like  to  go  to  the  stockade 
to  see  them.  I  see  that  if  I  were  to  criminate  others  it  would  not 
amount  to  an}i;hing.  I  see  it  is  too  late.  I  know  that  other 
chief  men  were  not  at  the  bottom  of  that  aflfair,  and  they  did 
not  take  so  prominent  a  part  in  the  massacre  as  the  3-ounger 
men.  I  know  but  little,  but  when  I  see  anything  with  my  eyes,  I 
know  it. 


i^l 


642 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


boston's  reasons  for  the  massacre. 

Boston  was  then  asked  why  they  killed  Canby.  He  said  that  all 
the  presents  they  had  received  had  no  influence  on  them,  and  they 
suspected  Canby  and  the  commissioners  of  treachery,  and  their 
hearts  were  wild.  After  the  young  men  had  decided  to  kill  the 
commissioners,  he  told  Bogus  he  was  afraid.  Bogus  said,  "  Don't 
bo  afraid ;  I  can  kill  him."  After  that  Captain  Jack  said  he  would 
go  and  prevent  it.  The  object  of  Bogus  going  in  that  night  to 
camp  was  to  remove  any  suspicion  from  General  Canby's  mind. 
The  young  warriors  thought  that  Canby,  Thomas,  Meacham,  and 
Gillam  were  powerful  men,  and  that  the  death  of  these  tyeos 
would  end  all  further  trouble.  When  they  saw  Dyer  coming  in 
place  of  Gillam,  they  decided  to  kill  them  all.  When  Bogus  came 
into  the  soldiers'  camp  ho  told  Riddle's  squaw  that  he  was  going 
to  kill  Canby  and  the  commissioners.  She  said,  "  All  right ;  go 
and  kill  them."  I  am  tolling  what  I  know  to  be  the  truth — 
nothing  more. 

Boston's  reference  to  the  part  taken  by  the  chief 
caused  Captain  Jack  to  speak  once  more,  and  it  was 
his  last  that  has  found  record.  He  seemed  anxious 
to  have  Hooker  and  Bogus  put  on  trial,  —  finally 
concluded,  "  If  I  am  to  die  I  am  ready  to  go  to  see 
my  great  Father  in  the  spirit  world."  Schonchin 
was  the  last  to  speak:  — 


The  Great  Spirit,  who  looks  from  above,  will  see  Schonchin 
in  chains,  but  He  knows  that  this  heart  is  good,  and  says,  "  You 
die  ;  you  become  one  of  my  people." 

I  will  now  try  to  believe  that  the  President  is  doing  according' 
to  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit  in  condemning  me  to  die.  You  may 
all  look  at  me  and  see  that  I  am  firm  and  resolute.  I  am  trying 
to  think  that  it  is  just  that  I  should  die,  and  that  the  Great  Spirit 
approves  of  it  and  says  it  is  law.  I  am  to  die.  I  leave  my  son. 
I  hope  he  will  be  allowed  to  remain  in  this  country.  I  hope  he  will 
grow  up  like  a  good  man.  I  want  to  turn  him  over  to  the  old  chief 
Schonchin  at  Yainax,  who  will  make  a  good  man  of  him.    I  have 


This  wai 
victs. 


WIGWAM  AND   WAKPATH. 


643 


always  looked  on  the  younger  men  of  our  tribe  as  my  especial 
charge,  and  have  reasoned  with  them,  and  now  I  am  to  die  as  the 
result  of  their  bad  conduct.  I  leave  four  children,  and  I  wish  tliom 
turned  over  to  my  brother  at  Yainax.  It  is  doing  a  great  wrong 
to  take  my  life.  I  was  an  old  man,  and  took  no  active  part.  I 
would  like  to  see  those  executed  for  whom  I  am  wearing  chains. 

In  the  boys  who  murdered  the  commissioners  I  have  an  inter- 
est as  though  they  were  my  own  children.  If  the  law  does  not 
kill  them,  they  may  grow  and  become  good  men. 

I  look  back  to  the  history  of  the  Modoc  war,  and  I  can  see 
Odeneal  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  troiible.  He  came  down  to  Link- 
ville  with  Ivan  Applegate ;  sent  Ivan  to  see  and  talk  with  Captain 
Jack.  If  Odeneal  came  by  himself,  all  the  Modocs  would  go  to 
Yainax.  I  think  that  Odeneal  is  responsible  for  the  murder  of 
Canbj',  for  the  blood  in  the  Lava  Beds,  and  the  chains  on  my  feet. 
I  have  heard  of  reports  that  were  sent  to  Y-re-ka,  Ashland,  and 
Jacksonville,  that  the  Modocs  were  on  the  warpath,  and  such  bad 
talk  brought  Major  Jackson  and  the  soldiers  down. 

I  do  not  want  to  say  my  sentence  is  not  right ;  but  after  our 
retreat  from  Lost  river  I  thought  I  would  come  in,  surrender,  and 
be  secure.  I  felt  that  these  murders  had  been  committed  by  the 
boys,  and  that  I  had  been  carried  along  with  the  current.  If  I  had 
blood  on  my  hands  like  Boston  Charlc}-,  I  could  say,  like  him,  "  I 
killed  General  Canby  "  —  "I  killed  Thomas."  But  I  have  nothing 
to  say  about  the  decision,  and  I  would  never  ask  it  to  be  crossed. 
You  are  the  law-giving  parties.  You  say  I  must  die.  I  am  sat- 
isfied, if  the  law  is  correct. 

I  have  made  a  straight  speech.  I  would  like  to  see  the  Big 
Chief  face  to  face  and  talk  with  him ;  but  he  is  a  long  distance  off, 
—  like  at  the  top  of  a  high  bill,  with  me  at  the  bottom,  and  I 
cannot  go  to  him ;  but  he  has  made  his  decision,  — made  his  law, 
and  I  say,  let  me  die.  I  do  not  talk  to  cross  the  decision.  My 
heart  tells  me  I  should  not  die,  —  that  you  do  me  a  great  wrong 
in  taking  my  life.  War  is  a  terrible  thing.  All  must  suffer,  —  the 
best  horses,  the  best  cattle  and  the  best  men.  I  can  now  only 
say,  let  Schonchin  die  I 


This  was  the  last  speech  made  by  the  Modoc  con- 
victs. 


644 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


The  chaplain  came  forward  and  offered  a  most  elo- 
quent prayer,  full  of  pathos  and  kindly  feeling  for 
the  condemned. 

Let  us  look  on  this  scene  a  moment;  it  may 
humanize  our  feelings.  The  prison  is  but  a  common 
wooden  building,  30  by  40  feet,  and  known  as  the 
"guard-house."  It  is  on  the  extreme  left  of  and 
facing  the  open  "  plaza  "  or  "  parade-gi'ound,"  in  the 
centre  of  which  stands  a  flag-pole,  from  whose  top 
floats  the  stars  and  stripes.  A  veranda  covers  the 
door-way,  before  which  are  pacing  back  and  forth 
the  sentries. 

Before  entering  cast  your  eye  to  the  right,  about 
one  hundred  yards,  and  a  square-looking  corral  arrests 
your  attention.  This  is  the  stockade.  It  is  con- 
structed of  round  pine  poles,  twenty  feet  long,  stand- 
ing upright,  with  the  lower  ends  planted  in  the  ground. 
Through  the  openings  we  see  human  beings  peeping 
out,  who  appear  like  wild  animals  in  a  cage.  A  par- 
tition divides  this  corral.  In  the  further  end  Captain 
Jack's  family  and  a  few  others  are  encaged;  in  the 
nearer  one  the  Curly-haired  Doctor's  peopld.  In 
front  walk  the  sentinels.  Outside,  at  the  end  of  the 
stockade,  nearest  the  guard-house,  there  are  four  army 
tents ;  in  these  four  tents  are  the  families  of  Hooker 
Jim,  Bogus  Charley,  Steamboat  Frank,  and  Shacknasty 
Jim,  and  these  Modoc  lions  are  with  them,  probably 
engaged  in  a  game  of  cards.  Scar-faced  Charley 
also  enjoys  the  privilege  of  being  outside;  but  he  does 
not  engage  in  sports,  or  idle  talk,  oftenest  sitting 
alone  in  gloomy  silence. 

Passing  the  guards  as  we  enter  the  room,  a  board 
partition  stands  at  our  right,  cutting  off  one-third  of 


■P' 


WIOWAM  A^D  WABPATU. 


645 


the  guard-house  mto  cells;  the  first  cell  has  been  the 
home  of  Boston,  Slolux  and  Barncho,  since  their 
arrival  at  the  fort.  The  next  is  where  Captain  Jack 
and  Schonchin  have  passed  the  long,  painful  hours  of 
confinement,  meditating  on  the  changes  of  fortune 
that  have  come  to  them. 

In  front,  and  running  alongside  the  opposite  walls, 
are  low  bunks  raised  twenty  inches  from  the  floor. 
Sitting  around  on  these  bunks  are  the  thirteen  Modoc 
Indians,  —  prisoners,  —  six  of  whom  have  just  learned 
from  official  authority  their  doom. 

Gen.  Wheaton  is  in  full  uniform.  The  white-haired 
chaplain  is  near  the  centre  of  this  curious-looking 
group.  Oliver  Applegate  and  Dave  Hill  are  with 
him.  Officers  and  armed  soldiers  fill  up  the  remain- 
ing space.  Outside  the  building  are  soldiers,  citizens, 
and  Klamath  Indians,  crowding  every  window. 

The  tremulous  voice  of  the  kind-hearted  chaplain 
breaks  the  solemn  stillness  with  a  short  sentence  of 
prayer.  Applegate  translates  the  words  into  Chinook 
to  Dave  Hill,  who  repeats  them  in  the  Modoc  tongue. 
Sentence  after  sentence  of  this  prayer  is  thus  repeated 
until  its  close. 

The  good  old  man  who  has  performed  this  holy 
ministry  bursts  into  tears,  and  bows  hie  head  upon 
his  hands.  In  this  moment  every  heart  feels  moved 
by  the  eloquence  of  the  prayer,  and  a  common  emo- 
tion of  sympathy  for  those  whose  lives  were  closing 
up  so  rapidly. 

Gen.  Wheaton  terminates  this  painful  interview  by 
assuring  the  convicts  that,  as  far  as  possible,  their 
wishes  should  be  respected. 

In  the  name  of  humanity,  do  we  thank  God  for 


646 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


noble-hearted  men  like  Gen.  Wheaton,  who  rise  supe- 
rior to  prejudice,  and  dare  to  extend  to  people  of  low 
degree  the  courtesies  that  all  mankind  owe  the  hum- 
blest of  our  race,  when,  in  life's  extremities,  the  heart 
is  dying  within  the  body.  The  women  and  children 
are  coming  to  take  a  last  farewell  of  their  husbands 
and  fathers.  "Who  that  is  human  could  look  on  this 
grief-stricken  group,  while  listening  to  the  notes  of 
agony  making  a  disconsolate  march  for  their  weary 
feet  on  this  j^ainful  pilgrimage,  and  not  bury  all  feel- 
ings of  exultation  and  thirst  for  revenge  toward  this 
remnant  of  a  once  proud,  but  now  humbled  race  ; 
notwithstanding  to  the  ear  come  despairing  sobs  of 
woe  from  the  lips  of  Mrs.  Boddy,  Mrs.  Brotherton, 
Mrs.  Canby  and  Mrs.  Thomas,  on  whom  the  great 
calamity  of  their  lives  burst  like  a  thunder-bolt  from 
a  clear  sky,  shattering  their  hearts,  and  leaving  them 
sepulchres  of  human  happiness,  illuminated  only  by 
the  rainbow  of  Christian  faith  and  hope,  spanning  the 
space  from  marble  tomb  to  pearly  gate? 

These  semi-savage  Modoc  women,  with  crude  and 
jumbled  ideas,  made  up  of  half-heathen,  half-Christian 
theology,  had  not  the  clear,  well-defined  hopes  of  im- 
mortality that  alone  bear  up  the  soul  in  life's  darkest 
hours. 

True,  they  had  been  cradled  through  life  in  storm 
ai.d  convulsions.  For  eleven  months  they  have  heard 
the  almost  continuous  howl  of  a  terrible  tempest  surg- 
ing and  whirling  around  and  above  them.  They  have 
listened  to  rattling  musketry,  roaring  cannon,  and 
bursting  shells.  They  have  seen  the  lightnings  of 
war,  flashing  far  back  into  their  beleaguered  homes  in 
the  rocjky  caverns  of  the  "  Lava  Beds  j "  but  with  all 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


647 


these  terrible  lessons,  they  were  not  prepared  to  calmly 
meet  this  awful  hour. 

Human  nature,  unsupported  by  a  living,  tangible 
faith,  sunk  under  the  overshadowing  grief,  and  strug- 
gled for  extenuation  through  the  effluence  of  agony 
in  wild  paroxysms  of  despair. 

"We  might  abate  our  S3mipathy  for  them  in  the  re- 
flection that  they  are  lowly,  degraded  beings,  incapa- 
ble of  realizing  the  full  force  of  such  scenes  ;  but  it 
would  be  an  illusion,  unworthy  of  a  highly  cultivated 
heart. 

God  made  them  too,  with  all  the  emotions  and 
passions  incident  to  mortality.  Circumstances  of 
birth  forbade  them  the  wonderful  transmutation  that 
we  claim  to  enjoy.  "Wlien  we  pass  under  the  clouds 
of  sorrow,  the  angel  Pity  walks  beside  us,  arm  in 
arm  with  sweet-faced  Hope,  whose  finger  points  to 
brighter  realms ;   with  themy  -Pity,  alone. 

The  sun  is  setting  behind  the  mountains;  the  grief- 
stricten  group  are  returning  to  the  stockade,  leaving 
behind  them  the  condemned  victims  of  treachery. 

Their  betrayers  —  Hooker,  Bogus,  Shacknasty  and 
Steamboat  —  are  invited  by  the  officers  to  an  interview 
with  their  vict'ms  ;  all  decline,  save  Shacknasty  Jim. 
This  interview  roused  the  nearly  dead  lion  into  life 
again  ;  the  meeting  was  characterized  by  bitter  crimi- 
nations. The  other  heartless  villains,  after  declining 
the  interview,  requested  Gen.  Wheaton  to  give  them  a 
position  where  they  could  witness  the  execution  on 
the  morrow. 

Let  us  drop  the  curtain  c^er  this  sad  picture,  and 
turn  our  attention  to  the  quartermaster  and  his  men, 
who  are  just  in  front  of  the  gnard-house.    He  has  a 


'! 


'i'l 

fit 


;m 


W.H 


648 


WIGWAM  AND  WASFATH. 


tape  line  in  his  hand,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  one 
of  his  men,  is  measuring  off  small  lots,  squaring 
them  with  the  plaza  ;  see  him  mark  the  spot,  while  a 
soldier  drives  do^vn  a  peg  ;  and  then  another,  about 
seven  feet  from  it.  He  continues  this  labor  until  six 
little  pegs  are  standing  in  a  row,  opposite  another 
row  of  like  number. 

Hooker,  Steamboat,  and  Bogus  Charley  are  lean- 
ing on  the  fence,  looking  at  the  men  who  are  now 
with  spades  cutting  the  F.oil  in  lines,  conforming  to 
the  pegs. 

Bogus  asks,  "What  for  you  do  that?"  —  "Making 
a  new  house  for  Jack,"  answers  a  grave-digger, 
lifting  a  sod  on  his  spade. 

This  is  a  little  more  than  Bogus  could  stand  un- 
moved. He  turns  away,  and,  meeting  the  eyes  of 
Boston,  who  looks  out  between  the  iron  bars  of  his 
cell,  Bc>gus  mutters,  in  the  iModoc  tongue,  a  few 
words  that  bring  Barncho  and  Slolux  to  the 
window. 

The  three  worthies  look  out  now  upon  a  scene 
that  very  few,  if  any  three  men  in  the  world  ever 
dia  —  that  of  the  digging  of  their  own  graves.  It  is 
but  a  thin  partition  that  separates  these  convicts  from 
their  chiefs.  Captain  Jack  and  Schonchin,  who  are 
aroused  from  the  condition  into  which  the  parting 
scene  had  left  them,  by  a  tapping  on  the  wall.  If 
the  last  trial  was  crashing  on  them,  what  must  have 
been  the  force  of  Boston's  speech,  through  that  wall, 
telling  them  that  the  earth  was  already  opening  to 
receive  their  bodies. 

The  sheriff  of  Jackson  County,  Oregon,  is  on 
hand,  and  he  has  a  business  air  about  him  too. 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


649 


I 


Justice  sent  him  on  this  mission,  after  the  red 
demons,  who  want  a  front  seat  at  the  show  to- 
morrow. "Will  justice  or  power  triumph?  We  shall 
see,  when  he  presents  his  credentials  to  Gen.  Wlieaton, 
whether  a  State  has  any  rights  that  the  United  States 
is  bound  to  respect. 

An  offer  of  ten  tJiousand  dollars  is  made  to  Gen. 
"Wheaton  for  the  body  of  Captain  Jack.  He  indig- 
nantly spurns  it.  This  accounts  for  the  future  home 
of  the  Modoc  chief  being  located  under  the  eyes  of 
Uncle  Sam's  officers.  It  is  now  nearly  ready  for 
occupation;  the  mechanics  are  putting  on  the  finish- 
ing touches  to  his  narrow  bed;  he  is  not  quite  ready 
yet  to  take  possession;  he  is  waiting  for  Uncle  Sam 
to  arrange  his  neck-tie^  and  read  to  him  his  title-deed. 

Boston  looks  out  through  the  iron  bars,  and  sees 
the  sods  up-thrown,  that  are  to  fall  on  his  lifeless 
heart  to-morrow. 

What  a  contemplation  for  a  sentient  being ;  watch- 
ing the  gi'ave  digger  hollowing  out  his  own  charnel- 
house! 

Bamcho  and  Slolux  also  share  in  this  unusual 
privilege.  How  the  thud  of  the  pick,  with  which  the 
earth  was  loosed,  must  have  driven  back  to  the 
remotest  corner  of  each  heart  the  quickened  blood ! 

The  retreat  sounds  out  far  and  wide  over  the 
camp  and  fortress,  and  sweeps  its  music  through  the 
cracks  of  the  stockade  and  prison  cells,  mingling 
with  the  weird,  wild  shrieks  of  the  despairing  Modoc 
women  and  children. 

Midnight  comes,  and  still  the  prayers  are  offered 
up,  and  incantations  are  going  on;  sleep  dees  not 
come  to  weary  limbs. 


U' 


ii:' 


t)!l 


650 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


The  morning  breaks.  Fortress  and  camps,  stock- 
ade and  i^risor  cells,  are  giving  signs  of  life. 

The  sun  is  climbing  over  the  pine-tree  tops,  and 
senu'mg  rays  on  the  just  and  the  unjust,  the  guilty 
and  the  innocei  t. 

The  roads  le  iding  to  the  fort  are  lined  with  the 
curious,  of  all  colors,  on  wheels  and  horse.  At  9.30 
A.  M.,  the  soldiers  form  in  line,  in  front  of  the  guard- 
house. 

Col.  Hoge,  officer  of  the  day,  enters  and  unlocks 
the  doors  of  the  cells,  and  bids  the  victims  come  forth. 
Every  day,  from  the  20th  of  February  to  the  11th 
of  April,  had  this  command,  and  even  invitation,  been 
extended  to  them.  Then  it  was  to  come  forth  to  live 
free  men;  now  it  is  to  come  forth  to  die  as  felons. 
To  the  former  they  turned  a  deaf  ear,  and  answered 
back  with  insult,  strange  as  it  may  appear.  To  the 
latter  they  arose  with  chains  rattling  on  their  limbs, 
and,  with  steady  nerve,  turned  their  backs  on  their 
living  tombs,  to  catch  a  sight  of  their  new-made 
graves  yawning  to  receive  them. 

Then  they  were  surrounded  with  daring  despera- 
does, whose  crimes  bade  them  resist.  ISTow,  by  no 
less  brave  men,  whose  polished  arms  compel  submis- 
sion. Then  the  chief  was  pleading  for  his  people, 
surrounded,  overruled  by  traitorous  villains.  IsTow, 
he  is  surrounded  by  men  who  will  soon  take  his  life, 
and  let  the  villains  live  to  chide  justice  by  their  blood- 
covered  garments  and  double-dyed  treason. 

A  four-horse  team  stands  in  front  of  the  guard- 
house, in  which  are  four  coffins;  the  six  prisoners 
mount  the  wagon.  The  chief  sits  down  on  one  of 
these  boxes,  Schonchin  on  another,  Black  Jim  on  the 


WIOW^VM   AND   WARPATH. 


651 


thinl,  and  Boston  Charley  on  the  fonrth,  Bamcho 
and  Slolux  beside  him.  A  glance  over  the  heads  of 
the  guards  shows  six  open  graves;  there  are  but  four 
cofBns  in  the  wagon.  Wliat  means  this  difference? 
But  few  of  all  the  vast  assembly  can  tell.  The  chiers 
thoughts  are  busy  now  trying  to  solve  the  problem. 
Perhaps  he  is  not  to  die;  an  uncertain  glimmering  of 
hope  lights  up  his  heart.  The  cavalcade  moves  out 
in  line  passing  near  tho  stockade.  The  prisoners 
catch  sight  of  their  loved  ones;  they  hear  the  cries 
of  heart-broken  anguish. 

Gen.  "WTieaton  refrains  from  the  use  of  the  Dead 
March.  The  column  goes  steadily  on,  marching  for 
one  hundred  yards,  then  turns  to  the  right,  and  the 
scaffold  comes  in  view ;  it  marches  square  to  the  front, 
then  turning  to  the  left,  directly  towards  it,  and  when 
within  a  few  yards,  the  column  opens  right  and  left, 
while  the  team  with  the  victims  of  crime  drives  to 
the  foot  of  the  steps  that  lead  to  the  ropes  dangling 
in  the  air  above.  It  stops.  Again  the  stem,  manly 
voice  of  Gen.  Wlieaton  commands.  The  first  time 
the  Modocs  heard  that  voice  was  on  the  17th  of  June, 
1873,  Avhen  supported  by  loud-talking  guns.  Then 
they  answered  back  defiance  from  the  caverns  of  the 
stronghold.  AH  day  long  he  coaxed  them  then  with 
powder  and  shell;  now  he  sponkswith  the  silent  power 
of  a  hundred  glittering  sabres  backing  his  words, 
and  the  Modocs  answer  with  the  clashing  chains  on 
their  legs.  "  The  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  shall 
be  first." 

This  royal-blooded  chief  wab  the  last  to  enter  the 
vortex  of  crime;  he  is  the ^rst  to  rise  on  the  ladder 
of  justice. 


^ 


1 


652 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


The  chains  are  now  cut  from  his  limbs.  He  stood 
unmoved  when  they  were  riveted  there;  he  is  equally 
fii'm  now. 

Again  the  problem  of  the  four  coffins  and  six  graves 
engages  his  mind,  while  the  chisel  parts  the  rivets. 
Schonchin  is  next  to  stand  up  while  his  fetters  are 
broken.  Then  Boston,  next  Black  Jim ;  and  the  good 
blacksmith  wipes  the  perspiration  from  his  brow  with 
his  leathern  apron,  straightens  himself  ready  for  this 
kindly  work  to  Barncho  and  Slolux. 

Behind  are  six  graves,  —  above  are  six  ropes,  —  in 
the  wagon  are  four  unchained  men  and  four  empty 
coffins.  The  suspense  is  ended  by  a  word  from 
General  Wheaton  to  the  blacksmith,  and  a  motion 
with  his  sword  towards  the  ladder,  while  his  eyes 
meet  first  the  Chief,  then  Schonchin,  next  Black  Jim, 
and  rest  a  moment  on  Boston  Charley.  Steadily 
the  four  men  march  up  the  seven  steps  that  lead  to 
the  six  dangling  ropes.  Barncho,  with  Slo-lux,  still 
sits  in  the  wagon  below. 

The  mourning  Modoc  captives  in  the  stockade 
have  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  scene,  three  hun- 
dred yards  away;  they  count  four  men  going  up 
the  ladder,  —  they  see  six  ropes  hanging  from  the 
beam  above  them. 

"  Four  loyal  Modoc  lions,  who  did  so  much  to  bring 
the  war  to  a  closej^  are  standing  with  folded  arms 
within  the  hollow  square  near  the  scaffold.  Scar- 
faced  Charley  is  sitting  on  a  bench  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  stockade,  with  his  face  buried  in  his  hands. 
He  will  not  witness  the  death-struggles  of  his  dying 
chieftain. 

It  is  now  10  A.  M.,  October  3d,  1873.    The  four 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


653 


men  are  led  on  to  the  drop;  their  arms  and  legs  are 
pinioned.  Captain  Jack  is  placed  on  the  right ;  next 
to  him,  Schonchin,  then  Black  Jim,  and  then  Boston 
Charley.  Four  hempen  cords  hang  beside  them. — 
two  swing  clear  to  the  left;  the  two  villains  who 
broke  the  long  armistice  on  the  eleventh  of  April 
with  a  war-whoop  are  resting  on  other  men's  coffins 
in  the  wagon  below. 

The  four  men  are  standhig  on  a  single  strand  that 
holds  the  drop.  One  stroke  of  an  axe  would  end 
this  ten'ible  drama,  now.  The  polished  blade  is 
waiting  for  the  dreadful  work.  Justice  perches 
with  folded  wings  on  the  beam  above.  Her  face  is 
blanched.  She  says,  "  My  demands  would  be  satis- 
fied with  imprisonment  for  life  for  these  helpless, 
blood-stained  men,  —  'twould  be  more  in  harmony 
with  my  Father's  wishes ;  but  those  whom  he  has  sent 
me  to  serve,  clamor  for  blood,  for  life.  If  this  must 
be,  why  the  two  men  in  the  wagon  below?  TVhy  the 
four  unfettered  villains  yonder?  I  cannot  understand 
by  what  authority  I  am  compelled  by  my  masters  to 
witness  this  partiality.  Here^  over  these  hetrcujed  vic- 
tbns  do  I  enter  my  solemn  'protest.  I  see  before  me 
another  power  that  evokes  my  presence,  the  State 
of  Oregon,  represented  by  Sheriff  McKenzie,  in 
whose  hands  I  see  a  paper  signed  by  Gov.  Grover, 
and  bearing  my  own  countersign."  With  faith 
in  the  power  of  the  general  Government,  she  folds 
her  wings  and  sits  calmly  watching  Coi-poral  Ross 
of  Co.  G,  twelfth  Infantry,  adjust  the  mstrument 
of  death  to  Captain  Jack's  neck.  It  differs  from 
the  one  used  by  this  chief  on  Gen.  Canby,  bat 
is   equally   sure;    and   the   chief's   nerves   are   even 


I 


i     '**  I 


654 


WiaW.UI   iVND   WAUPATU. 


steadier  now  than  they  were  when  he  shouted, 
*' Kau-tux-a." 

Corporal  Killien  measures  the  diameter  of  Schon- 
chin's  neck  with  the  end  of  another  rope.  The  old 
chief's  eyes  do  not  glare  now  as  they  did  when  he 
drew  from  his  side  a  knife  with  one  hand,  and  a  pistol 
with  the  other,  and  shouting,  "Blood  for  blood!" 
—  chock-e  la  et  chock-e  la,  —  fired  eleven  shots  at 
the  chairman  of  the  "  Peace  Commission."  He  was 
excited  then;   he  is  cool  now. 

Private  Robert  "Wilton  is  putting  a  halter  on  Black 
Jim's  neck,  while  Private  Anderson  is  fixing  a  "neck- 
tie "  that  will  stop  the  voice  that  taunted  Dr.  Thomas, 
in  his  dying  moments,  with  the  failure  of  his  God  to 
save  him. 

Justice  smiles  on  Anderson's  hand  while  he  per- 
forms this  worthy  act  in  vindication  of  her  honor. 

The  ropes  are  all  adjusted;  the  soldiers  who  have 
performed  this  last  personal  act  walk  down  the 
steps. 

Forty  millions  of  people,  through  a  representative, 
read  a  long  list  of  "wherefores"  and  "becauses,"  in- 
eluding  the  finding  and  sentence  of  the  courts,  to  the 
patient  men  standing  on  the  drop,  thousands  of  eyes 
watching  every  movement. 

At  last  the  adjutant  reads  the  following  short 
paper  from  the /or^y  million,  to  the  four  men  on  the 
scaffold;  the  two  men  in  the  wagon. 


ExBCirriTB  Osncs,  Aagnst  22, 187S. 

The  foregoing  sentences,  in  the  oases  of  Captain  J.  ick,  Schonchin, 

Black  Jim,  Boston  Charley,  Barncho,   alias  One-eyed  Jim,   and 

Slolux,  alias  Cok,  Modoc  Indian  prisoners,  are  hereby  approved ; 

and  it  is  ordered  that  the  sentences  in  the  said  cases  be  carried 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


655 


into  execution  by  the  proper  military  authority,  under  the  orders 

of  the  Secretary  of  "War,  on  the  third  day  of  October,  eighteen 

hundred  and  seventy-three. 

U.  S.  GRANT, 

President, 

Wliile  the  words  are  being  interpreted  the  adjutant 
draws  another  paper  from  a  side  pocket  in  his  coat. 
In  a  clear  voice  he  reads  sentence  by  sentence,  while 
the  majestic  form  of  Oliver  Applegate  repeats,  and 
Dave  Hill  interprets  into  the  Modoc  tongue :  — 


(General  Court  Ntartial  Orders,  No.  34.) 

WAB  DlPARTMENT,  AdJDTANT-GeNERAL'S  OfFICE, 

Washington,  September  12,  1873. 

The  following  orders  of  the  President  will  be  carried  into  effect 
under  the  direction  of  the  major-general  commanding  the  Division 
of  the  Pacific :  — 

ExBcctrvE  Office,  September  10,  1873. 

The  executive  order  dated  Aug.  22, 1873,  approving  the  sentence  of  death  of 
certain  Modoc  Indian  prisoners,  is  iicrcby  modified  in  the  cases  of  Barnclio, 
alias  One-eyed  Jim,  and  of  Slolux,  alias  Cok ;  and  the  sentence  in  the  said 
cases  is  commuted  to  imprisonment  for  life.  Alcatraz  Island,  harbor  of  San 
Francisco,  California,  is  designated  as  the  place  of  confinement. 

U.  S.  GRANT, 

President. 


By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  "War. 


E.  D.  TOWNSEND, 

Adjuta  nt-  General. 


Justice  whispers,  "  What  does  that  mean?  "  Those 
two  men  voted  for  the  assassination  on  the  morning 
of  the  11th  of  April,  and  volunteered  to  bear  the  guns 
to  the  scene  of  slaughter. 

The  chaplain  offers  a  prayer,  the  last  notes  of  Dave 


656 


AVIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


Hill  arc  dying  on  the  air  as  he  finishes  the  words  in 
the  Modoc  tongue. 

A  flash  of  polished  steel  in  the  sunlight  and  the 
axe  has  severed  the  rope  that  held  the  trap,  and  the 
thread  oi  four  stormy  lives  at  the  same  instant,  and 
four  bodies  are  writhing  in  mid-air.  An  unearthly 
scream  of  anguish  rises  from  the  stockade,  much 
louder,  though  no  more  heart-rending,  than  escaped 
the  lips  of  Jerry  Crook  and  George  Roberts  on  the 
17th  of  Jan.,  or  from  young  Hovey  on  the  18th  of 
April,  while  Hooker  Jim  and  Bogus  Charley  were 
scalping  him  and  crushing  his  head  with  stones. 

The  four  bodies  are  placed  in  the  four  c  .ffins,  and 
Barncho  and  Slo-lux  ride  back  to  the  guard-house 
beside  them. 

The  sheriff  of  Jackson  County  presents  to  the  com- 
manding officer  the  requisition  of  the  governor  of 
Oregon  for  Hooker  Jim,  Curly-haired  Doctor,  Steam- 
boat Frank,  and  other  Modocs.  The  following  tele- 
grams explain  the  result :  — 

Jacksonville,  Oregon,  October  4,  1872. 
To  Jeff.  C.  Davis,  U.  S.  A.,  Commanding  Department  of  Oolum' 

bid,  Portland,  Oregon :  — 

At  the  liour  of  the  execution  of  Captain  Jack  and  his  co-mur- 
derers at  Fort  Klamath,  on  yesterday,  the  sheriff  of  Jackson  Coun- 
ty was  present  with  bench-warrants  and  certified  copies  of  the 
indictments  of  the  Lost-river  murderers,  and  demanded  their  sur- 
render to  the  civil  authorities  of  this  State  for  trial  and  punish- 
ment. A  writ  of  habeas  corpus  lias  also  been  issued  by  Justice 
Prime,  of  the  circuit  court  of  Jackson  County,  commanding  that 
the  indicted  murderers  be  brought  before  him,  and  cause  be  shown 
why  they  are  withheld  from  trial.  I  respectfully  ask  that  you  com- 
municate the  proceedings  to  Washington,  and  that  final  action  in 
the  premises  be  taken  by  order  from  there. 

L.  F.  GROVER,  Governor,  Oregon. 


rf!k'%*!dSl&S)F>v. 


S  c  A  u  -  F  A  c  i;    r 


II  A  RI-EY. 


1,!^    i 


V- 


WI0WA3I  AND  WARPAXn. 


To  which  was  received  in  reply:  — 


Shown  by  the  Secretary  to  the  President  in  Cabinet  to-day. 
It  is  understood,  the  orders  to  scud  all  the  Modocs  to  Fort  E.  A. 
Russell,  as  prisoners  of  war,  given  the  13th  September,  1873, 
will  bo  executed  by  Gen.  Schofleld,  and  no  further  instructions  are 
necessary.  Signed,  E.  D.  TOWNSEND, 

Adjutant-Oeneral. 


Thus  was  the  matter  disposed  of,  no  further  action 
being  taken  in  regard  to  this  question. 

Gov.  Grover  expressed  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
wishes  of  the  people  of  the  Pacific  coast,  when  he 
demanded  the  surrender  of  the  Indians  who  had  been 
indicted  by  the  local  authorities.  The  President  and 
cabinet  were  actuated,  doubtless,  by  humane  and  char- 
itable motives  in  thus  disposing  of  a  serious  question. 

Knowing  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  I  do  not  believe  it 
was  just,  or  wise,  to  cover  the  worst  men  of  the  Modoc 
tribe  with  the  mantle  of  charity,  for  turning  traitors  to 
their  own  race,  and  at  the  same  time  to  sanction  the 
sentence  of  death  on  the  victims  of  their  treachery. 

The  terrible  tragedy  is  closed,  —  it  only  remains  to 
dispose  of  the  survivors,  after  having  placed  the 
four  dead  bodies  in  the  gi'ound,  and  filling  up  the  two 
empty  graves,  sending  the  intended  occupants  to  San 
Francisco  Bay.  The  living  are  ordered  to  the  Quaw- 
Paw  Agency,  Indian  Territory.  Here  is  the  official 
statement:  — 

FoBT  McPhebson,  Neb.,  November  1,  1873. 
Edward  P.  Sjinn,  Indian  Commissioner,  Washington,  D.  C. :  — 
Modocs    consist  of  thirty-nine  men,   fifty-four  wc'siicn,   sixty 
children.    Detailed  report  by  families  forwarded  to  Department 
head-quarters  October  30. 

J.  J.  REYNOLDS,  Colonel  Third  Cavalry. 


"i 


^11 


m 
III 


i.i 


660 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Thirty-nine  men  I  Why,  Captain  Jack  had  never 
more  than  fifty-three  men  with  him,  all  told.  Call 
the  roll,  let  us  see  where  they  are  now:  — 

1.  Captain  Jack.  A  voice  from  —  well,  it's  uncer- 
tain where,  —  a  slanderous  rumor  says,  from  a  medical 
museum,  Washington  city,  —  answers,  "  J3ere." 

2.  Schonchin.  "  Here^'*  comes  up  from  one  of  the 
graves  in  the  parade-ground.  Fort  Klamath. 

3.  Boston  Charley,  "^^re,"  whispers  a  spirit, 
hanging  over  one  of  the  graves  in  the  same  cemetery. 

4.  Black  Jim.  "JTere,"  comes  up  through  the 
thick  sod  beside  "  Boston." 

5.  Mien's  Man.  "^ere,"  answer  scattered  bones 
that  "v^'ere  drawn  off  the  Dry-lake  battle-ground,  by 
a  Warm  Springs  scout,  with  a  reatta,  and  now 
bleaciii^ig  in  among  the  rocks  of  the  Lava  Beds. 

6.  Shacknasty  Jake,  from  a  skull  which  furnished 
several  scalps  during  the  three  days'  battle,  when  its 
owner  was  Mlled  in  petticoat,  comes  in  hollow  voice, 
''Here:' 

7.  Shacknasty  Frank ;  the  abhes  of  a  warrior  who 
was  wounded  in  a  skirmish  on  the  fifteenth  of  Jan- 
uary, and  died  in  the  Lava  Beds,  answers,  "  Here.'' 

8.  Curly-haired  Jack.  The  answer  comes  from 
the  bones  of  a  suicide,  muttered  up  through  the  blood 
of  Sherwood,  ''Here." 

9.  Big  Ike.  The  remnants  of  a  brave  who  stood 
too  n'var  the  valuable  shell,  on  the  third  day  of  the  big 
battle,  answers  in  broken  accents,  "  H-e-r-e." 

10.  Greasy  Boots.  "  Here^'  is  answered  by  the 
ghost  of  the  brave  killed  the  day  bafore  the  battle  of 
January  17th. 

11.  Old  Chuckle  Head.    On  a  shelf,  in  a  certain 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


661 


doctor's  private  medical  museum,  a  skeleton  head 
rattles  a  moment,  and  then  answers,  "  J3ere." 

12.  One-eyed  Riley.  The  bones  of  the  only  brave 
who  fell  in  I  ost-river  battle  answer,  "  Here.  I  fell 
in  fair  battle,  I  don't  complain." 

13.  Old  Tales.  The  ghost  of  Old  Tales  answers, 
that  he  was  killed  by  a  shell,  and  mmmurs,  '^Here^^ 

14.  Te-he  Jach  — 

15.  Mooch  — 

16.  L'dile  John  — 

17.  Poney  — 

A  dark  spot  in  the  road  between  Fairchild's  ranch 
and  Gen.  Davis  camp  shakes,  upheaves,  and  with 
thunderous  voice  proclaims  in  the  ears  of  a  Chris- 
tian nation,  ^'  Here  we  fell  at  the  hands  of  your  sons 
after  we  had  surrendered.     '  Yengeance  I '  " 

Fifty  thousand  hearts,  in  red-skinned  tabernacles 
on  the  Pacific  coast,  respond,  "  Wait." 

Seventeen  voiceless  spirits  have  answered  the 
roll-call  who  were  sent  oflf  to  the  future  hunting- 
ground  by  United  States  sulphur,  saltpetre  and 
strong  cords. 

Seventeen  from  fifty-Cee,  leaving  thirty-six, — 
the  returns  say,  thirty-nine. 

How  is  this  ?  Look  the  matter  up,  and  we  shall 
find  that  "  Old  Sheepy "  and  his  son  Tom  Sheepy, 
who  never  fired  a  shot  during  the  war,  —  in  fact,  was 
never  in  the  Lava  Beds, — ^are  compelled  to  leave 
their  home  with  Press  Dorris  and  go  with  the  party 
to  Quaw-Paw. 

Another, — a  son  of  Old  Duffey,  —  who  remained  at 
Yai-nax  during  the  war,  sooner  than  be  separated 
from   his  friends,  joins   the   exiles   on  their  march. 


m 


1 1 
III 

ill 


662 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


Kow  all  are  accounted  for,  and  the  record  here  made 
is  correct. 

The  other  side  we  have  told  from  time  to  time  in 
the  progress  of  this  narrative.  The  cost  of  this  war 
has  not  yet  been  footed  up. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 


THE  TWO  GIBBETS. 


A  GLOOMY  picture  fills  the  eye  from  the  height  of 
the  bluff  whence  ^ 


took 


first 


view  of  the  Lava 
Beds,  Jan:  16th,  1873.  The  whited  tents  are  there 
no  more.  The  little  mr  ands  at  the  foot  rest  heavy 
on  the  breasts  of  the  fallen.  No  curling  smoke 
rises  from  savage  altar,  or  soldier  camp.  The  hcwl 
of  cayote  and  cougar  succeed  the  silver  bugle, 
calling  to  the  banquet  of  blood.  Wild  birds,  instead 
of  ascending  ghosts,  fill  the  air  above,  and  their 
screams  follow  the  weu*d  wild  songs  of  the  medicine- 
men. The  caverns  answer  back  to  bird  and  beast  — 
no  more  to  savage  war-whoop,  or  bursting  shell. 
The  cannon  are  cooled  by  a  winter's  frost,  while  a 
1  inter's  storms  have  given  one  coating  to  the  scars 
-it\,  on  the  lava  rocks  by  the  iron  hail.  The  dark 
Sj^f!-:',  painted  by  mad  hands,  dipped  in  the  blood  of 
her-  &,  grow  dim.  A  rude,  unfinished  gibbet  stands 
out  on  the  deserted  promontory  of  the  peninsula,  a 
reproael^ful  proof  of  a  soldiers  unwarranted  haste,  a 
token  of  a  nation's  prudence ;  while  another  rude  scaf- 
fold, which  justice  left  half-satisfied,  also  remains  at 
Fort  Klamath,  defiant  and  threatening,  and  upbraiding 
her  ministers  for  unfair  dispensation  in  sparing  the 
I  lore  guilty,  while  wi'iting  her  protest  on  the  blood- 
stained hands  of  the  felons  who  provoked  her  wrath, 
as  she  follows  them  to  the  land  of  banishment. 


664 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


The  lone  cabins,  made  desolate  by  the  casualties  of 
war,  are  again  inviting  the  weary  traveller  to  rest. 
The  ranchmen  of  the  Modoc  country  follow  the 
cattle  trails  without  fear.  The  surviving  wounded 
are  trying  to  forget  their  scars,  or  hobbling  on  crutch 
or  cork.  Tall  grasses  meet,  fern  and  flowers  bloom 
over  the  gi*aves  of  loved  ones,  bedewed  with  the 
tears  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  a  nation's  mis- 
take iii  r  '*'  \ng  to  recognize  a  savage's  power  for 
revenge,  i.  recorded  by  scars  on  the  maimed  hands 
and  mutilated  face  of  his  biographer,  and  proclaimed 
by  the  marble  shaft  whose  shadows  fall  over  the 
breast  of  the  lamented  Canby,  near  IndiancCs  capital, 
and  by  the  tomb  of  the  no  less  lamented  Dr. 
Thomas,  which  keeps  silent  vigils  with  those  of 
Baker  and  Broderick,  on  the  hallowed  heights  of 
Lone  mountain,  San  Francisco. 

The  broken  chains  of  the  royal  chief  hang  noise- 
IcFS  on  the  walls  of  his  prison  cell.  His  bones,  de- 
spised, dishonored,  burnished,  sepulchred  in  the 
crystal  catacomb  of  a  medical  museum,  represent  his 
ruined  race  in  the  capital  of  a  conquering  nation; 
and  the  survivors  of  his  blood-stained  band,  broken- 
hearted, mourn  his  ignominious  death,  shouting  their 
anguish  to  listless  winds  in  a  land  of  exile.  He  lives 
in  memory  as  the  recognized  leader  in  the  most 
diabolical  butchery  that  darkened  the  pages  of  the 
world's  history  for  the  year  eighteen  hundred  and 
seventy-three. 

The  Congress  of  the  United  States  devotes  itself 
to  the  payment  of  the  cost  of  the  war;  while 
the  results  stand  out  ghastly  monuments,  calling  in 
thunder-tones  on  a  triumphant  nation  to  stop,  in  its 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


665 


mad  career;  to  think;  upbraiding  it  for  the  inhuman 
clamor  of  power  for  the  blood  of  heroic  weakness, 
until  it  thwarted  President  Grant's  policy  of  doing 
right,  hecause  it  was  right;  at  the  same  time  applaud- 
ing him  for  his  courage  in  proposing,  and  his  success 
in  consummating,  a  settlement  on  peaceful  terms  with 
a  powerful  civilized  nation,  with  whom  we  had  cause 
of  estrangement. 

If  it  was  bravery  that  courted  the  accusation  of 
cowardice,  while  it  grandly  defied  impeachment  by 
proposing  to  settle  a  financial  difference,  involving 
questions  of  national  honor,  in  the  case  with  England, 
on  amicable  terms;  it  was  infinitely  more  patriotic, 
more  humane,  more  just,  and  more  godlike,  boldly 
to  declare  that  a  weak  and  helpless  people  should  be 
treated  as  men,  —  should  be  tendered  the  olive-branch, 
while  the  cannon  were  resting  from  their  first 
repulse. 

The  civilized  world  joins  in  honoring  him  in  the 
former  case  ;  cowardly  America  burns  in  effigy  his 
Minister  of  the  Interior  for  failure  in  the  Ijitter  ;  while 
on  neither  magistrate  nor  minister  should  fall  the 
blame.  On  whom,  then,  should  it  fall?  Where  it 
belongs,  —  on  the  American  people  as  a  nation.  If  you 
doubt  it,  read  the  history  written  by  our  own  race, 
and  you  will  blush  to  find  from  Cape  Cod  bay  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Oregon,  the  record  of  battle-grounds 
where  the  red  man  has  resisted  the  enci'oachments  of 
a  civilization  that  refused  him  recognition  on  equal 
terms  before  the  law.  You  will  find  that  these  battle- 
grounds have  been  linked  together  by  trails  of  blood, 
marked  out  by  the  graves  of  innocent  victims  of  both 
races,  who  have  fallen  in  vindication  of  rights  that 


m 


I 


ii 

■)■■  a 


!i!' 


666 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


have  been  by  both  denied,  or  have  been  slain  in  re- 
venge by  each.  You  will  find  scarce  ten  miles  square 
that  does  not  offer  testimony  to  the  fact  that  it  has 
been  one  continuous  war  of  races,  until  the  aborigines 
have  been  exterminated  at  the  sacrifice  of  an  equal 
number  of  the  aggressive  race.        , 

You  will  find  that  in  almost  every  instance  where 
the  white  man  and  the  Indian  have  met  in  conference, 
the  latter  has  been  overmatched  with  diplomatic 
schemes,  plausible  and  captivating  on  the  surface, 
while  behind  and  beneath  has  always  lurked  a  hidden 
power,  that  he  dared  not  resist  in  open  council. 

You  will  find  that  notwithstanding  the  Indian  has 
made  compacts  under  such  circumstances  as  have 
alienated  his  home  and  the  graves  of  his  fathers,  he 
has  been  almost  always  true  and  faithful  to  his  agi*ee- 
ments,  until  justified  by  his  ethics,  in  abandoning  them 
on  account  of  the  breach  by  the  other  party  to  the 
compact. 

You  will  find  that  a  few  bad  white  men,  who  have 
always  swung  out  in  the  van  of  advancing  immigra- 
tion, and  have  without  commission  or  authority  repre- 
sented the  white  race  socially,  have  offered  the  Indian 
the  vices,  and  not  the  virtues,  of  Christian  civilization  ; 
and  when  the  facts  are  known,  you  will  find  that  these 
few  bad  white  men  have  been  the  real  instruments 
of  blood  and  treachery,  nearly  always  escaping  un- 
punished, while  the  brave  and  enterprising  frontiers- 
man has  unjustly  borne  the  stigma  and  censure  of 
mankind;  if,  surviving  the  tomahawk  and  scalping- 
knife,  he  has  stood  up  in  defence  of  a  home,  to  which 
his  government  invited  him. 

As  I  proposed  in  the  outset  to  confine  myself  to 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


66; 


facts  of  personal  knowleclge,  or  those  well  authenticated 
from  other  sources,  and  to  "vvrite  of'the  Indians  of  the 
!Xorth-west,  and  of  Oregon  especially,  I  leave  it  to 
others  to  review  the  history  of  other  portions  of  the 
country,  and,  in  pursuance  of  my  own  plan,  I  beg  to 
introduce  a  witness  to  sustain  the  assertion,  that  civili- 
zation has  refused  the  Indian  admission  on  ei^ual 
terras  with  other  races,  —  a  w  itness  who  was  bom  and 
raised  on  the  frontier  line  ;  whose  whole  life  has  been 
spent  in  Oregon;  one  whose  statement  will  not  be 
questioned  w  here  he  is  known,  —  Captain  Oliver  C. 
Applegate,  who  has  given  me,  on  paper,  a  few  of  the 
many  incidents  coming  under  his  own  personal  obser- 
vation, w^hich  he  has  in  times  past  related  to  me  around 
camp-fires  in  the  wild  region  of  the  lake  country  of 
Oregon. 

Swan  Lake,  Oregov,  Sept.  10,  1873. 
Hon.  A.  B.  Meacham  :  — 

Dear  Friend,  .  .  A  Klik-a-tat  Indian,  named  Dick  Johnson,  came 
to  vay  father's  house  in  the  Willamette  valley,  and  worked  for  him 
on  his  farm,  prior  to  the  year  1850.  In  that  year  my  father  re- 
moved to  the  Umpqua  valley,  and  soon  alter  Dick  Johnson,  with 
his  wife  (an  Umpqua) ,  and  mother  and  step-father,  called  the  ••  Old 
Mummy,"  followed  up  and  asked  permission  to  cultivate  a  small 
portion  of  my  father's  farm.  This  the}'  were  allowed  to  do.  They 
cultivated  these  few  acres  in  good  stj-le,  and  found  time  to  la^>o^ 
for  father  and  other  farmers,  for  which  they  received  good  rema- 
neration. 

In  1852,  Dick  Johnson,  under  the  encouragement  of  my  father. 
Uncle  Jesse,  and  other  friends,  took  up  a  claim  in  a  beautiful  little 
valley  about  ten  miles  from  Yoncalla,  where  m}'  people  resiJed- 
This  place  was  so  environed  by  hills  that  it  was  thought  the  whites 
would  not  molest  Dick  there.  Aided  by  the  old  man  and  his  broth- 
er-in-law, Klik-a-tat  Jim,  who  came  from  the  upper  country  to  join 
him,  Dick  Improved  his  farm  in  good  style,  built  gooil  houses  and 
out-buildings,  and  fenced  hundreds  of  acres.    lie  was  frugal,  en- 


I 


'' 


668 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


terprising  and  industrious,  and  emulated  the  Iwttcr  white  people  in 
every  way  possible,  and  was  so  successftil  in  his  farming  enterprises 
that  ho  outstripiKid  many  of  his  white  neigljl)ors.  His  character 
was  above  reproach,  and,  beside  sending  his  little  brother  to  school, 
he  was  always  seen  with  his  family  at  cluirch  on  the  Sabbath  day. 
Unfortunatel}-,  there  were  greed}',  avaricious  white  men  living  in 
the  vicinity  of  Dick  Johnson,  who  coveted  his  well-improved  11' tie 
farm.  Eight  of  them  —  disguised  —  went  to  his  place  late  one 
afternoon,  and  found  Dick  chopping  wood  in  the  front  yard.  They 
shot  him  in  cold  blood,  and,  as  his  lifeless  body  fell  across  the  log 
on  which  he  was  chopping,  his  step-father  ran  from  the  house 
unarmed,  and  was  shot  also.  The  women,  after  being  beat  over 
the  heads  with  guns  and  revolvers,  finally'  made  their  escape  to  the 
woods,  and  took  refuge  under  the  roof  of  a  friendly  neighbor. 

Klik-a-tat  Jim  —  who  came  from  mill  about  the  time  the  old  man 
was  shot — was  fired  on  several  times,  some  bullets  cutting  his 
clothing,  but,  jumping  into  his  house  at  a  window,  he  got  his  gun, 
and  the  cowardly  assassins  fled.  Although  there  was  immense 
excitement  throughout  the  countrj'  when  this  outrage  was  commit- 
ted, and  a  hundred  men  assembled  to  bury  Dlek  Johnson  and  the 
old  man  like  white  men,  as  they  deserved,  an  ineffectua!  attempt 
was  made  to  bring  the  offenders  to  justice,  and  they)  actually  lived 
fur  years  vpon  thefai'm^  eyijoying  the  henejits  of  poor  Dick  Johnson's 
labor.  Our  laws  then  scarcely  recognized  the  fact  that  the  Indian 
had  any  rights  that  were  worthy  of  respect,  and  this  most  atrocious 
crime  hrd  to  go  unpunished,  thus  encouraging  the  Columbia  Indians 
to  greater  desperation  under  Old  Kam-i-a-kin,  in  the  war  of  1866- 
1867.  Well  it  would  be,  for  the  good  name  of  the  American  people, 
if  we  could  point  to  but  one  isolated  case  of  this  kind  ;  but  truth 
and  candor  compel  us  to  admit,  that  too  many  Indian  wars  have 
been  occasioned  by  the  greed  and  ruffianism  of  our  own  race. 


Many  j-ears  ago,  during  tlie  first  Modoc  war,  the  Klamaths  say 
that  a  band  of  Modocs  was  pursued  b}-  troops  from  the  Modoc 
countrj',  out  bj'  Yainax,  and  to  the  vicinity  of  Silver  lake,  where 
the  Modocs  managed  to  elude  their  pursuers.  The  troops  (prob- 
ably a  detachment  of  Gen.  Crosby's  California  Volunteers),  not 
liking  to  be  foiled  in  their  efforts  to  take  a  few  scalps,  returned  by 
Klamath  marsh,  "Williamson  river,  and  Big  Klamath  lake,  butcher- 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


GG9 


ing  in  cold  blood  several  unresisting  Klamatlis.     Even  this  did 
not  occasion  trouble  witli  the  Klaraaths,  many  of  whom  tried  to 
incite  the  nation  to  a  war  of  revenge.     ..... 

Ever  truly  yours, 
(Signed)  O.  C.  APPLEGATE. 


To  sustain  the  declaration  that  the  Indian  has  been 
ovennatched  and  outwitted  in  treaty  council,  I  pro- 
pose to  introduce  a  witness  whose  long  life  on  the 
frontier  qualifies  him  to  speak;  whose  great  talents, 
and  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  politics  and  wants 
of  the  ^orth-west,  secured  him  a  seat  for  six  years  in 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States,  and  who  is  now 
(1874)  a  member  of  Congress;  one  who  was  also  a 
Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs  in  Oregon,  and 
knows  whereof  he  speaks.  I  refer  to  Hon.  James 
W.  ^esmith.  In  his  official  report  for  the  year  1857, 
page  321  Commissioners'  Report,  he  says :  — 

My  own  observation  in  rislation  to  the  treatic-s  which  have  been 
made  in  Oregon  leads  me  tc  the  conclusion  that  in  most  instances 
the  Indians  have  not  reeeiv3d  a  fair  comp'insation  for  the  riglits 
which  they  have  relinquished  to  the  Goverr.ment. 

It  is  too  often  the  case  in  such  ncgotiacious  that  the  agents  of 
the  Government  are  over-anxious  to  drive  a  close  bargain ;  and 
when  an  aggi'cgate  amount  is  mentioned,  it  appears  large,  witliout 
taking  into  consideration  that  the  Indiana,  in  the  sale  and  surrender 
of  their  countrv,  are  surrendering  all  their  means  of  obtaining  a 
living  ;  and  wiien  the  small  annuities  come  to  be  divided  throughout 
the  tribe,  it  exliibits  but  a  pitiful  and  meagi-e  sum  for  the  supply 
of  their  individual  wants.  Tlie  Indians,  receiving  so  little  for  the 
great  surrender  which  the}'  have  made,  begin  to  conclude  that  they 
have  been  defrauded ;  they  become  dissatisfied,  and  finally  resort 
to  arms,  in  the  vain  hope  of  regaining  their  lost  rights,  and  tlie 
Government  expends  millions  in  the  prosecution  of  a  war  which 
might  have  been  entirely  avoided  by  a  little  more  liberality  in  their 


II 


670 


WIGWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


dealings  with  a  people  who  have  no  very  correct  notions  of  the 
value  of  money  or  property.  A  notable  instance  of  this  kind  is 
exhibited  in  the  treaty  of  September  10,  1853,  with  the  Rogue- 
river  Indians.  That  tribe  has  diminished  more  than  one-half  in 
numbers  since  the  execution  of  the  treaty  referred  to.  They,  how- 
ever, number  at  present  nine  hundred  and  nine  souls. 

The  country'  which  they  ceded  embraces  nearly  the  whole  of  the 
valuable  portion  of  the  Rogue-river  valley,  embracing  a  country 
unsurpassed  in  the  fertility  of  its  soil  and  value  of  its  gold  mines  ; 
and  the  compensation  which  those  nine  hundred  and  nine  people 
now  living  receive  for  this  valuable  cession  is  forty  thousand  dol- 
lars, in  sixteen  equal  annual  instalments  of  two  thousand  five 
hundred  dollars  each,  a  fraction  over  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents 
per  annum  to  a  person,  whiv-1:  is  the  entire  means  provided  for 
their  clothing  and  sustenance. 

When  those  Indians  look  back  to  the  valuable  country  which 
they  have  sold,  abounding,  as  it  does,  with  fish  and  game  and  rich 
gold  fields,  it  is  but  natural  that  they  should  conclude  that  the 
$2.50  per  annum  was  a  poor  compensation  for  the  rights  they 
relinquished.  It  is  true  that  the  Government  can  congratulate  it- 
self upon  the  excellence  of  its  bargains,  while  the  millions  of 
dollars  subsequently  spent  in  subduing  those  people  have  failed  to 
convince  them  that  they  have  been  fairly  dealt  with. 

Even  the  treaties  which  have  been  made  remain,  with  but  few 
exceptions,  unratified,  and  of  the  few  that  have  been  ratified  but 
few  have  been  fulfilled. 

Those,  delays  and  disappointments,  tCo'ether  with  the  unfulfilled 
promises  which  have  been  made  to  them,  have  had  the  efifect  to 
destroy  their  confidence  in  the  veracity  of  the  Government  agents  ; 
and  now,  when  new  promises  are  made  to  them  for  the  purpose  of 
conciliating  their  friendship,  they  only  regard  them  as  an  extei^sion 
of  a  very  long  catalogue  of  falsehood  already  existing.     .     .     . 


That  the  Indian  has  been  overcome  by  power  may 
be  established  by  the  fact,  that  in  the  treaty  council 
of  1855,  whereby  "  The  Confederate  Bands  of  Mid- 
dle Oregon^^  were  compelled  to  accept  Warm  Springs 
Reservation  as  a  home,  by  the  threats  and  presence 


WIGWAM  AND  WABPATH. 


071 


of  an  armed  force  of  the  Government.  This  I  state 
on  the  authority  of  Dr.  Wm.  C.  McKay,  who  was 
secretary  for  the  council. 

That  the  Indian  has  been  faithful  to  his  compacts, 
I  submit  the  testimony  of  a  veteran,  who  has  fought 
them  forty  years,  —  General  Harney. 

HVBIANE  TREATMENT  OF  TUE  INDIANS. 

General  Harney,  before  the  House  Committee  on  Military 
Aflfairs,  to-day,  gave  his  opinion  that  if  the  Indians  were  treated 
faii'ly  there  would  never  be  any  difflcultics  with  them.  He  had 
ki!i.own  but  two  instances  in  which  they  ever  violated  the  treaty 
stipulations,  and  in  these  the  Indians  were  to  bo  excused,  for  the 
treaties  had  grown  old  before  they  were  sought  to  be  enforced,  and 
the  chiefs  and  head  men  who  made  them  were  all  dead.  The 
troubles  with  the  Indians  were  principally  caused  by  fraudulent 
agents  and  by  whiskey  dealers. 

That  the  Indian  has  not  been  the  aggressor  in  the 
wars  of  Oregon,  I  refer  to  one  of  the  bloodiest  that 
has  ever  cursed  this  young  State,  in  proof. 

From  Hon.  George  E.  Cole,  now  Postmaster,  Port- 
land, Oregon,  I  learned  some  of  the  facts  in  this  case.' 
No  man  stands  fairer  than  Mr.  Cole  as  a  man  of  in- 
tegrity and  honor.  In  proof  of  this  assertion  his 
present  position,  in  one  of  the  moh'  respectable  fed- 
eral offices  in  the  State,  is  cited. 


In  the  fall  of  1851,  a  party  of  miners,  returning  from  a  suc- 
cessful gold-hunting  expedition  to  California,  encamped  on  an 
island  in  Rogue  River.  All  was  peace  and  quiet.  No  war,  no 
blood,  no  treachery.  The  Indians  were  in  joint  occupation  of  the 
beautiful  valley  of  Rogue  river  with  the  white  men,  whose  cabins 
and  farms  dotted  the  more  beautiful  portions  of  the  country. 


672 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


After  tbo  miners  have  made  camp  two  Indians  visit  them,  —  a 
common  tiling  for  Indians  to  do.  They  are  invited  to  partake  of 
the  supper, —  an  act  of  courtesy  never  omitted  in  wild  life,  —  and 
they  accept.  The  day  passes  into  night.  The  Indians  prepare  to 
return  to  their  own  camps.  The  miners  object,  and,  through  fear 
that  they  might  be  surprised  in  the  night,  demand  that  the  Indians 
remain.  The  Indians  remonstrate.  The  miners  are  more  solic- 
itous for  them  to  stay,  their  anxiety  to  leave  being  construed  as 
ominous  of  intended  treachery.  The  Indians,  also,  suspecting  the 
same  thing  on  the  part  of  the  miners,  break  to  run,  and  both  of 
them  are  shot  down  and  scalped. 

The  miners  resume  their  journey.  The  friends  of  the  Indians 
miss  them.  Their  scalpless  bodies  are  found  on  a  timber  drift  in 
the  river  below.  The  Rogue-river  war,  with  all  its  horrors,  was 
the  result. 


That  it  was  the  nost  terrible  that  ever  devas- 

tated Oregon,  let  us  call  to  the  stand  another  unim- 
peachable witness, — Gen.  Joel  Palmer, — and  we  shall 
leani  something  of  the  reasons  why  it  was  so.  Gen. 
Palmer,  in  his  annual  official  report  as  Superin- 
tendent of  Indian  Affairs  for  the  year  1856,  page 
200,  says  in  speaking  of  this  Rogue-river  war  :  — 


In  every  instance  where  a  conflict  has  ensued  between  volun- 
teers and  hostile  Indians  in  southern  Oregon,  the  latter  have  gained 
what  they  regard  a  victory.  It  is  true  that  a  number  of  Indian 
camps  have  been  attacked  by  armed  parties,  and  mostly  put  to  death 
or  flight ;  but  in  such  cases  it  has  been  those  unprepared  to  make 
resistance,  and  not  expecting  such  attack.  This,  though  lessening 
the  nuraher  of  the  Indians  in  the  country,  has  tended  greatly  to  ex- 
asperate and  drive  into  a  hostile  attitude  many  that  would  other- 
wise have  abstained  from  the  commission  of  acts  of  violence  against 
the  whites. 

The  avowed  determination  of  the  people  to  exterminate  the  Indian 
race,  regardless  as  to  whether  they  were  innocent  or  guilt}',  and  the 
general  disregard  for  the  rights  of  those  acting  as  friends  and  aiding 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


673 


in  the  subjugation  of  our  real  and  avowctl  enemies,  have  Imcl  a 
powerful  influence  in  inducing  tliese  tribes  to  join  the  warlilte 
bands. 

It  is  astonishing  to  know  the  rapidity  with  which  iiiti'lligcncc  ia 
carried  from  one  extreme  of  tlio  country  to  another,  unil  tlio  com- 
mission of  outrages  (of  which  there  have  been  many)  by  our  peo- 
ple against  an  Indian  is  heralded  forth  by  the  hostile  parties, 
augmented,  and  used  as  evidence  of  the  necessity  for  all  to  unite  in 
war  against  us. 

These  coast  bands,  it  is  believed,  might  have  been  kept  out  of 
the  war,  if  a  removal  could  have  been  efil'Cted  during  the  winter ; 
but  the  numerous  obstacles  indicated  in  my  former  letters,  with 
the  absence  of  authority  and  means  in  my  hands,  rendered  it 
impracticable  to  effect  it. 


Continuing  the  subject,  he  further  says  :  — 


A  considerable  number  of  the  Lower  Coquille  bands  had  been 
once  induced  to  come  in,  but  by  the  meddlesome  intotfereiice  of  a 
few  squaw  men  and  reckless  disturbers  of  the  peace,  thoy  were 
frightened,  and  fled  the  encampment.  A  party  of  minors  and 
others,  who  had  collected  at  Port  Orford,  volunteered,  pursued, 
and  attacked  those  Indians  near  the  mouth  of  Coquille,  killing 
fourteen  men  and  one  woman,  and  taking  a  few  prifioners.  This 
was  claimed  by  them  as  a  battle,  notwithstanding  no  resistance 
•was  made  by  the  Indians. 


This  witness  clearly  establishes  the  fact,  that  un- 
armed and  unresisting  Indians  were  attacked  and 
shot  down  like  wild  beasts,  and  that  "  extermination  " 
was  the  war  cry  of  the  white  men.  He  confirms,  too, 
the  statement  in  regard  to  the  rapidity  with  which 
intelligence  is  transmitted  from  one  tribe  to  another, 
and  its  effect. 

Do  you  wonder  at  the  Modocs  refusing  to  surren- 


674 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


der,  with  so  much  to  remind  thein  of  the  white  man's 
bloodthirsty  deeds?  See  the  last  quotation  from 
Gen.  Palmer,  and  remember  that  these  fourteen  men 
and  one  woman  were  killed  after  the  surrender,  and 
in  the  attempt  to  escape. 

"White  meix  were  accustomed  to  regard  the  Indian 
as  the  synonym  for  treachery  and  savage  brutality. 
Let  us  see  how  this  matter  stands  in  the  light  of 
what  has  been  already  written,  after  adding  one  or 
two  other  instances  from  the  many  that  crowd  thickly 
forward  for  a  place  on  the  '•.vitness-stand. 

Judge  E.  Steele,  a  lawyer  of  high  character,  a 
resident  of  Y-re-ka,  Cal.,  since  1851,  and  also  an  ex- 
superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs,  in  reporting  an 
Indian  difficulty  in  1851,  relates :  — 


That  while  hunting  i  "»r  two  Indians  who  had  committed  some 
offence,  we  fell  in  with  Ben  "Wright,  who,  learning  from  a  squaw 
with  whom  he  was  living  that  the  Indians  had  taken  that  course, 
he,  with  a  band  of  Shastas,  had  started  in  pursuit  and  intercepted 
and  captured  them.  "We  came  in  together,  and  took  the  Indians 
to  Scott  vallej',  and  there  gave  them  a  fair  trial,  proving  their 
identity  by  both  white  men  and  Indians,  and  the  Indian  testimony 
and  their  own  stor\-,  all  of  which  was  received  in  evidence.  One 
was  found  guilt\-,  and  the  other  acquitted  and  set  at  liberty.  Our 
present  superintendent  of  public  instruction.  Professor  Q.  K.  God- 
frey, was  one  of  the  jury.  During  our  absence  the  people  remained 
under  great  excitement,  as  all  kind  of  rumors  were  afloat ;  and  our 
company  was  so  small,  and  I  had  started  into  a  country  inhabited 
by  hordes  of  wild  Indians,  and  those  of  Siskiyou  mountain  and 
Rogue-river  valley  notoriously  hostile  and  warlike.  Old  Scar- 
face,  learning  of  the  difficulty  at  R'.gue  river,  contrary  to  advice 
given  him  when  we  left,  had  come  out  from  the  caiion,  appeared  on 
the  mountain  13'ing  cast  of  Y-re-ka,  u;^  the  Indians  afterward  told 
mo,  for  the  purpose  of  letting  thf  whites  know  the  trouble,  as  the 
'/cads  were  guarded  by  the  Indiana  on  the  mountains,  so  that  trav- 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


^i5 


ellers  could  not  pass.  As  soon  as  he  was  seen,  a  wild  excitement 
ensued,  and  a  company  started  in  pursuit.  Scar-face,  seeing  the 
danger,  fled  up  the  Shasta  vallej-,  on  foot,  his  pursuers  after  him, 
well  mounted.  After  a  race  along  the  hills  and  through  the  valleys 
for  about  eighteen  miles,  he  was  finally  captured  and  hung  upon  a 
tree,  at  what  is  now  called  Scar-face  Gulch. 

In  speaking  of  a  trip  to  Rogue-river  valley  he 
says : — 

"We  had  got  out  of  provisions,  and  when,  at  the  mouth  of  Salmon 
river,  we  made  known  our  destination  to  the  chief,  Euphippa,  he 
tool:  his  spear  and  caught  us  some  fish,  but  would  take  no  paj'. 

In  1854  or  1855  there  was  one  more  excitement  in  Scott's  valley 
by  the  whites  fearing  an  attack  from  the  Indians,  from  the  fact  that 
they  had  held  a  dance  and  gone  back  into  the  hills.  Here  it  may 
be  well  to  state  a  custom  among  all  those  upper  country  Indians, 
which,  not  being  generally  under.stood  by  our  people,  has  led  to 
much  difficulty.  It  is,  at  the  commencement  of  the  fishing  season, 
and  at  its  close,  they  hold  what  is  callod  a  fish-dance,  in  which  they 
paint  and  go  through  all  the  performances  of  their  dances  at  the 
opening  and  closing  of  war.  They  also  hold  a  harvest  dance,  when 
the  fruits  and  nuts  get  ripe,  but  this  is  o,  a  more  quiet  character, 
more  resembling  their  sick  dance,  when  they  tr}'  to  cure  their  sick 
by  the  influence  of  the  combined  mesmerism  of  a  circle  of  lucUans, 
in  which  tlic}-  are  in  manj-  instances  very  successful.  But  to  retiim 
to  my  subject.  Hearing  of  the  gathering  of  the  whites,  and  know- 
ing the  danger  to  our  people  and  property  if  a  war  was  then  inau- 
gurated, I  got  on  my  horse  and  rode  to  the  place  of  rendezvous. 
After  consulting,  it  was  determined  to  fall  iv  -^n  the  Indian  camp  at 
about  daylight  next  morning,  as  it  was  thought  that  at  that  hour 
they  could  be  mostly  killed  and  easily  c  nquered.  I  returned  to 
my  house,  took  my  j'oung  Indian,  Tom,  and  started,  by  a  cir- 
cuitous trail  in  the  mountains,  for  the  Indian  camp,  and  before 
morning  had  them  all  removed  to  a  safe  jjlace.  In  a  few  days  all 
fears  were  quieted  and  harmony  restored  witaout  the  loss  of  any 
Uvea  or  destruction  of  propertj'.  About  this  time  a  young  Indian 
from  Humbug  creek,  visiting  the  Scott-vallcj-  Indians,  had  stopped 
at  an  emigi'ant  camp  and  stolen  two  guns.  Word  was  brought  to 
me.    I  sent  for  Chief  Johu,  and  roquired  him  to  bring  the  guns  and 


! 


lis. 


:'? 


676 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATfl. 


Indian,  which  he  did.  I  tied  and  whipped  the  Indian,  and  then 
let  him  go.  Late  in  the  fall,  afterwards,  I  was  sitting  near 
the  top  of  the  mountain  back  of  my  hoase,  witnessing  a  deer 
drive  by  the  Scott-valley  Indians  on  the  suiTounding  hills,  when  I 
heard  a  cap  crack  behind  me  in  a  clump  of  small  trees.  Getting 
up  and  immediately  running  into  the  thicket,  I  discovered  an 
Indian  running  down  the  opposite  slope  of  the  mountain.  I 
returned  to  my  house,  and  sent  Tom  after  Chief  John,  and  from  him 
learned  that  when  he  left,  this  Humbug  Indian  was  there.  I  directed 
him  to  bring  him  to  my  house,  which  he  did  next  morning.  The 
Humbug  Indian  told  me  it  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  tried  to 
kill  me,  but  that  his  gun  had  failed  him,  and  now  that  he  and  all 
the  Indians  thought  that  I  had  a  charmed  life.  T  s^ave  him  a  good 
talk,  which  impressed  him  much,  and  then  ur  Dound  him,  and  told 
him  to  go  and  do  well  thereafter.  He  was  ufiver  known  to  do  a 
bad  act  afterward,  but  was  finally  killed  by  the  Kiamath-lake 
Indians,  about  a  year  afterwards. 


Of  another  affair,  occurring  in  1855,  he  says :  — 

Learning  of  the  difficulty,  and  judging  the  Indians  were  not 
wholly  to  blamo.  I  proposed  to  Lieutenant  Bonicastle,  then  sta- 
tioned at  Foil  Joues,  and  Judge  Roseborough  to  accompany  me, 
and  with  Tolo,  another  Indian,  to  visit  their  company,  and  arrange 
terms  of  peace.  We  went  and  spent  two  days  witli  them  before 
arriving  at  a  solution  of  the  difficult}'.  During  this  time  they  sev- 
eral times  pointed  their  guns  at  us  with  a  determination  to  shoot, 
but  as  often  were  talked  into  a  better  turn  of  mind,  and  finally 
agreed  to  go  and  live  at  Fort  Jones,  and  remain  in  peace  with  the 
whites.  The  third  day  thereafter  was  settle  \  upon  for  their  re- 
moval, when  Bonicastle  was  to  send  a  company  of  soldiers  to  es- 
cort and  protect  them.  In  the  next  day  a  white  man,  who  had  a 
squaw  at  the  cave,  went  out,  unknown  to  us,  and  told  the  Indians 
he  was  sent  for  them,  and  thereupon  the}'  packed  up  and  started 
for  Fort  Jones  with  him,  one  day  ahead  of  time  agreed  upon.  On 
their  way  in  at  IClamath  river,  about  twenty  miles  from  Yreka,  they 
were  waylaid,  and  their  chief.  Bill,  shot  from  behind  the  brush  and 
killed.  They  kept  their  faith,  nevertheless,  and  came  in,  when  I 
explained  it,   so  they  were  satisfied.     This  was  known  to  the 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


677 


Modocs,  and  they  talked  of  it  on  our  last  visit  to  tlie  car?  Occasion- 
ally thereafter  I  was  applied  to  only  on  matters  of  trifling  mo- 
ment and  easily  arranged,  until  my  appointment  to  the  Indian 
superintendency,  in  the  summer  of  1863,  for  the  northern  district 
of  California.  In  this  narration  I  have  passed  over  several  Rogue- 
river  wars  without  notice,  as  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  them ;  also 
the  Modoc  war  of  1852,  which  took  place  whilst  I  was  away  at 
Crescent  City ;  therefore  all  I  know  of  that  was  hearsay ;  but  I 
know  it  was  generallj'  known  that  Ben  Wright  had  concocted  the 
plan  of  poisoning  those  Indians  at  a  feast,  and  that  his  interpreter 
Indian,  Livile,  had  exposed  to  the  Indians,  so  that  but  few  ate  of 
the  meat,  and  that  Wright  and  his  company  then  fell  upon  the  In- 
dians, and  killed  forty  out  of  fort}-  ,-fJven  and  one  other  died  of  the  poi- 
son afterward.  There  is  one  of  ^hL  conpany  now  in  the  county  who 
gives  this  version,  and  I  heard  Wright  swearing  about  Dr.  Ferrber, 
our  then  druggist  (now  of  Valejo),  selling  him  an  adulterated  ar- 
ticle of  str^-chnine,  which  he  said  the  doctor  wanted  to  kill  the 
cayotes.  That  the  plan  was  concocted  before  they  left  Yreka  de- 
feats the  claim  now  made  for  them,  that  they  only  anticipated  the 
treacherj'  of  the  Indians.  Schonchin  was  one  of  the  Indians  that 
escaped,  and  in  late  inter\'iew  then  he  mndc  this  as  an  excuse  for 
not  coming  out  to  meet  ♦^he  commission  The  story  of  the  In- 

dian corresponds  so  well  with  that  I  have  frequently  heard  from 
our  own  people,  before  it  became  so  i  ch  of  a  (L^grace  by  the 
reaction,  tliat  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  correction  in  its  irencral  de- 
tails. At  the  time  others,  as  well  as  mj'sclf,  told  Wright  that  (he 
transaction  would  at  some  time  react  fearfully  upon  some  innocent 
ones  of  our  people ;  but  so  long  a  time  had  elapsed  that  I  li  id 
concluded  that  matter  was  nearlj'  forgotten  hy  all,  and  nothing  W'  i  Id 
come  of  it,  until  the  night  of  my  second  visit  in  the  cave,  wlicii 
Schonchin  would  get  ver}'  excited  talking  of  it  as  an  excuse  for  not 
going  out.  The  history  of  that  night  you  have  probably  seen  a^  if 
was  given  by  an  article  in  the  "Sacramento  Record  "and  "San  Fran- 
cisco Chronicle,"  for  which  paper  he  was  corresponding ;  he  was 
made  wild  ;  he  was  with  me  the  whole  time  after.*  A  final  peace 
was  mride  with  the  Modocs,  but  the  year  is  now  out  of  my  mind  ; 
but  about  1857  or  1858  they  came  to  Yreka  with  horses,  money,  and 


I  j 

't!«l  i 


I 

t 

1' 


■ 


*  Refers  to  the  Ben  Wright  massacre. 


678 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


furs  to  trade  and  get  provisions  and  blankets.  On  their  way  out 
they  were  waj'laid  at  Shasta  river,  as  was  claimed  by  Shasta  In- 
dians, and  seven  killed,  robbed  and  thrown  into  the  ri\'er.  Many 
of  our  citizens  thought  white  men  were  connected  with  this  mur- 
der, and  it  is  probabl}'  so.  The  Shasta  Indians  retreated ;  they 
claim  that  but  few  of  their  people  were  engaged  in  the  massacre, 
but  it  was  mostly  done  by  the  white  people,  in  their  negotiations 
for  peace  in  the  spring  of  1864,  mentioned  hereafter. 


Col.  B-  C.  Whiting,  another  ex-superintendent  of 
Indian  AflFairs,  says,  "  In  1858  a  party  of  white  men 
went  to  an  island  in  Humboldt  bay,  California,  and 
murdered,  in  cold  blood,  one  hundred  and  forty-nine 
men,  women,  and  children,  who  were  suspected  of 
being  connected  with  other  Indians  who  were  at  war 
with  white  men; "  and  that  "no  effort  was  ever  made 
to  bring  the  murderers  to  justice." 

One  more  witness,  —  one  whose  statement  was  made 
with  chains  on  his  limbs,  and  while  he  was  on  trial 
for  his  life  at  Fort  Klamath,  July,  1873.  Captain 
Jack  says:  — 

I  vanted  to  quit  fighting.  My  people  were  all  afraid  to  leave 
the  cave.  They  had  been  told  that  they  were  going  to  be  killed, 
and  they  were  afraid  to  leave  there  ;  and  my  women  were  afraid 
to  leave  there.  While  the  peace  talk  was  going  on  there  was  a 
squaw  came  from  Fairchild's  and  Dorris's,  and  told  us  that  the 
peace  commissioners  were  going  to  murder  us ;  that  they  were 
trying  to  get  us  out  to  murder  us.  A  man  b}'  the  name  of  Nate 
Beswick  told  us  so.  There  was  an  old  Indian  man  came  in  the 
night  and  told  us  again. 

The  Interpreter.  That  is  one  of  those  murdered  in  the  wagon 
while  prisoners  by  ihe  settlers. 

Captain  Jack  (continuing).  This  oV  Indian  man  told  me  that 
Nate  Beswick  told  him  that  that  day  IMeacham,  General  Canby, 
Dr.  Thomas,  and  Dyer  were  going  to  murder  us  if  we  came  to  the 
council.    All  of  my  people  heard  this  old  man  tell  us  so.    And 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


679 


then  there  was  another  squaw  came  from  Fairchild's,  and  told  me 
that  Meacham  and  the  peace  commissioners  had  a  pile  of  wood 
ready  built  up,  and  were  going  to  bum  me  on  this  pile  of  wood ; 
that  when  they  brought  us  into  Dorris's  they  were  going  to  burn 
me  there.  All  of  the  squaws  about  Fairchild's  and  Doms's  told 
me  the  same  thing.  After  hearing  all  this  news  I  was  afraid  to 
go,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  did  come  in  to  make  peace. 


Add  to  all  this  the  fact,  that  the  popular  cry  was 
war,  of  which  the  Modocs  were  aware,  as  they  were 
of  all  the  incidents  referred  to  in  this  chapter;  and  the 
ftu'ther  discouraging  knowledge  that  no  efforts  had 
ever  been  made  to  punish  offenders  for  crimes  com- 
mitted on  their  race;  and  a  candid  mind  may  be 
enlightened  as  to  the  cause  of  the  failure  of  the  Peace 
Commission  sent  out  by  President  Grant  in  1873. 

The  seed  was  sown  while  he  was  carrying  on  busi- 
ness at  Galena,  or  fighting  rebels  around  Yicksburg. 
The  harvest  came  while  he  was  in  power.  It  was 
rich  in  valuable  lives.    It  was  costly  in  treasure. 

It  was  a  natural  yield.  It  came  true  to  the  plant- 
ing. The  seed  was  sown  broadcast,  and  harrowed 
deep  into  hiunan  hearts  by  the  constant  repetition  of 
insult  and  wrong,  irrigated  often  by  the  blood  of  the 
Indian  race.  It  slumbered  long  (sometimes  appar- 
ently dead,  save  here  and  there  an  outcropping 
giving  signs  of  life),  so  long,  indeed,  that  Judge 
Steele  thought  "  the  matter  was  nearly  forgotten  by 
all,"  until  Schonchin  called  it  up  during  one  of 
Steele's  visits  to  the  Lava  Beds  in  1873. 

If  the  harvest  was  delayed  in  part,  it  was  none  the 
less  prolific  when  it  came.  The  reapers  were  few,  but 
+heir  sheaves  were  many,  and  bound  together  with  the 
lives  of  the  humble,  the  great,  the  noble,  the  good. 


m\ 


i«  I  i 


lit- 
hi  I 


iii 


i 


680 


WIOWAM   AND  WARPATH. 


Docs  my  reader  yet  understand  why  the  policy, 
under  wliich  we  settled  a  great  matter  of  difference 
with  a  great  nation,  was  not  successful  in  settling  a 
small  matter  with  a  small  nation?  Does  he  see,  now, 
on  whom  the  blame  rests? 

I  liear  some  one  answer  :  — 

"  On  the  frontier  men,  of  course." 

Not  too  fast,  my  friend.  While  it  is  true  that  each 
succeeding  wave  of  immigi'ation  to  the  border  line  has 
borne  on  its  crest  a  few  bad  men  mixed  with  the  good, 
it  is  also  true  that  the  great  majority  of  the  frontier 
men  were  of  the  latter  class,  —  brave,  fearless  pioneers 
as  God  has  ever  created  for  noble  work  ;  rough,  un- 
polished men  and  women,  with  great  hearts  that 
opened  ever  to  their  kind.  I  assert  here,  in  reiteration, 
that  nowhere  in  all  this  broad  land  can  be  found  men 
and  women  of  larger  hearts  and  nobler  aims  than 
frontier  people.  As  far  as  their  treatment  of  the 
Indian  tribes  is  concerned,  I  assert,  fearless  of  contra- 
diction, that  three-fourths  of  them  are  the  Indians* 
best  friends;  and  that^  ii  dissensions  arise,  they  are 
caused  by  bad  white  men,  who  mix  and  mingle  with 
the  Indians,  and,  by  their  wilful  acts  of  dissipation, 
provoke  quarrel  and  bloodshed,  thereby  involving 
good  citizens.  "When  once  blood  is  spilled,  the  Indian 
too  often  feels  justified,  by  his  religion,  in  wreaking 
vengeance  on  the  innocent.  They  retaliate  ;  and  hence 
border  warfare  reigns,  and  the  bloody  chapter  is  re- 
peated over  and  over  again,  until  "  Extennination  " 
rings  along  the  frontier  line,  and  both  races  take  up  the 
cry. 

The  question  has  been  asked  twice  ten  thousand 
times,  What  is  the  remedy?    For  two  hundred  years, 


WIOW^UI    AND   WARPATn. 


681 


political  economists,  statesmen  and  philosophers  have 
been  proposing,  experimenting,  and  luiling  in  schemes 
and  plans  for  the  Indian.  Xever  yet  have  they  come 
squarely  up  to  duty  as  American  citizens  and  Christian 
patriots  should,  and  recognized  the  manhood  of  the 
Indian,  treating  him  as  a  man,  dealing  justly  and 
fairly  witli  him,  redressing  his  wrongs,  while  punish- 
ing him  for  his  crimes. 

In  plain  words,  we  have  never,  as  a  nation,  experi- 
mented in  our  management  of  the  Indian  race  of 
America,  with  a  few  plain  laws  that  were  first  written 
on  the  marble  tablets  of  Sinai,  and  sent  along  down 
succeeding  ages,  between  the  12th  and  lihh  verses 
of  the  20th  chapter  of  Exodus.  Xor  have  we  always 
remembered  the  31st  verse  of  the  sixth  chapter  of 
St.  Luke:  — 

"  And  as  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do 
ye  also  to  them  likewise." 

If,  as  we  proudly  assert,  we,  as  a  nation,  are  the 
rich  inheritors  of  the  priceless  boon  of  Uberty,  then 
lev.  us  be  the  champions  of  human  rights. 

If  we  are  the  friends  of  the  weak  and  oppressed, 
let  us  protect  those  whose  claim  upon  us  is  based 
upon  a  prior  inheritance,  and  whose  weakness  has 
been  our  strength. 

If  we  would  welcome  the  exiled  patriot  from  other 
lands,  let  us  give  the  hand  of  fellowship  to  those 
whose  birthright  to  this  land  cannot  be  disputed. 

If  our  civilization  is  the  most  exalted  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,  then  let  us  be  the  most  magnanimous  in 
our  treatment  of  the  remnants  of  a  people  who  gave 
our  fathers  the  welcome  hand. 

If  we  would  be  just,  then  let  us  remember  that 


?M 


l\ 


U 


682 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


our  civilization  has  refused  them,  and  them  alone,  its 
benefit. 

If  we  honor  bravery,  let  us  remember  that  they 
have  resisted  only  when  oppressed. 

If  we  reverence  the  high  and  noble  principles  of 
fidelity  in  a  people,  let  us  not  forget  that,  of  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  the  Indian  is  the  most  faithful  to 
his  compact. 

Let  us  as  a  nation,  reading  our  destiny  in  the 
coming  future  by  the  light  of  the  hundred  stars  upon 
our  flag,  be  true  to  God,  true  to  ourselves,  and  true 
to  the  high  trust  we  hold. 

"While  we  shake  hands  with  the  Briton  and  our 
brothers  of  the  South,  over  the  battle-fields  of  the 
past,  let  us  not  withhold  from  these  people  our 
friendship. 

While  we  forget  the  crimes  of  others,  let  us  bury 
in  one  common  grave  all  hatred  of  race,  all  thirst  for 
revenge. 

While  we  are  strong  enough  and  brave  enough  to 
defy  the  taunts  of  the  civilized  world  for  proclaiming 
the  advent  of  the  hour  when  the  song  of  the  shep- 
herds on  the  plains  of  Bethlehem  shall  become  the 
motto  of  a  Christian  nation,  —  "  Peace  and  good  will 
to  men,"  —  let  us  not  live  a  lie,  and  prove  our  cow- 
ardice by  shouting  "  extermination  "  against  a  race 
fast  fading  away. 

Let  us  not  fall  from  our  high  estate  by  debasing  a 
grand  national  power  in  a  triumph  over  a  civilization 
inferior  to  our  own. 

Let  us  gather  up  and  care  for  these  people,  redeem 
the  covenant  of  our  lathers,  fulfilling  our  high  mis- 
sion. 


WIGWAM  AND  WAKPATH. 


683 


Let  us  uphold  the  hands  of  our  rulers  who  declare 
a  more  humane  policy,  and  let  it  be  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  American  statesman  to  proclaim  to  the 
world  that  the  glad  time  so  long  foretold  has  come, 
when  "  The  wolf,  also,  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and 
the  leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid;  and  the  calf 
and  the  yoimg  lion  and  the  fatUng  together;  and  a 
little  child  shall  lead  them." 


, 


APPENDIX  TO  CHAPTER  SIX. 


Oneatta,  Yaquina  Bat  Aoenct,  October  1,  1871. 

Sm :  —  I  have  the  honor  of  submitting  this  my  eighth  and  last 
annual  report  of  the  affairs  of  Siletz  agency. 

I  closed  my  term  of  service  as  agent  on  the  1st  day  of  May, 
1871,  at  which  time,  as  you  are  already  aware,  I  turned  over  the 
agency  to  my  successor,  Hon.  Joel  Palmer.  Since  tlien  I  have 
been  busily  engaged  in  making  up  my  final  papers.  This  task,  I 
regret  to  say,  is  not  j'et  entirely  finished.  Tlie  delaj'  has  been 
owing  to  some  irregularities,  occasioned  by  a  change  of  employes, 
and  to  other  causes  over  which  I  have  had  no  control.  I  shall 
now,  however,  push  the  work  forward  with  all  possible  dispatch, 
and  shall  soon  have  my  papers  fully  completed.  I  ask,  for  that 
purpose,  your  indulgence,  and  that  of  the  department,  for  a  short 
time. 

I  presume  it  will  hardly  be  expected  that  I  should  at  this  time 
enter  into  the  usual  details  concerning  the  affairs  of  the  agency. 
All  the  important  facts  which  have  not  been  communicated  to  the 
department  by  myself  heretofore  will,  undoubtedly,  be  embodied 
in  the  first  annual  report  of  my  successor.  He  will  find  it  con- 
venient, if  not  necessary,  in  introducing  himself  oflScially  to  the 
department,  to  give  some  sort  of  3ummary  of  the  condition  of  the 
affairs  of  the  agency  at  the  time  He  took  charge.  I  feel,  therefore, 
that  it  would  be  altogether  a  work  of  supererogation  for  me  to  go 
over  that  ground  in  detail.  As  this  is  my  last  report,  after  a  some- 
what protracted  term  of  service  in  charge  of  Siletz  agenc}',  I  think  it 
not  inappropriate  that  I  should  present  here  a  few  statements  of 
facts  in  the  history  of  the  dealings  of  the  Government  with  these 
Indians,  in  order  to  show  some  of  the  difficulties  with  which  I 
have  had  to  struggle.  I  shall  also  presume  somewhat  upon  j'our 
indulgence  by  offering  some  suggestions,  prompted  by  my  own 


686 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


experience,  concerning  the  future  management  of  the  Indians  over 
whom  I  luive  so  long  had  control. 

I  have  had  charge  of  Siletz  agency  for  eight  j'cars,  and  in  that 
time  have  had  to  encounter  many  stubborn  obstacles  to  the  suc- 
cessful management  of  its  concerns.  I  think,  too,  that  I  may  say, 
without  vanity,  that  I  have  overcome  many  auch  obstacles,  il  is 
not  an  easy  matter,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances 
and  with  all  possible  helps,  to  conduct  successfuU}'  the  afl'ajrs  of 
an  Indian  agency.  To  a  race  accustomed,  as  the  Indians  hivo 
been,  to  the  licentious  freedom  of  the  savage  state,  tlio  restraints 
and  dull  routine  of  a  reservation  are  almost  intolerably  irksome. 
It  is  not  wonderful,  therefore,  that  they  should  be  often  fractious 
and  impatient  of  control,  or  that,  even  when  reduced  to  complete 
submission  to  the  regulations  imposed  ujjon  them,  they  should,  in 
many  instances,  become  sullen  and  unteachablc.  To  manage  such 
a  people  in  such  a  condition  M-ith  any  degree  of  success;  requires 
unceasing,  anxious  labor.  Yet  this  is  the  duty  imposed  upon 
almost  every  Indian  agent  in  the  United  States.  But  '  i  addition 
to  these  difficulties,  which  are  incident  to  Indian  "^^  igement 
everywhere,  there  are  some  which  are  peculiar  to  Siletz  agency. 
There  are  at  this  agency  some  fourteen  tribes  and  parts  of  tribes 
of  Indians,  numbering,  in  the  aggregate,  at  the  time  I  took 
charge,  about  2,000.  Separate  treaties  were  made  with  all  of 
these  different  tribes  in  1855,  at  the  conclusion  of  what  is  known 
as  the  "Rogue-river  War,"  in  Southern  Oregon.  Some  of  these 
treaties  have  been,  in  part,  confirmed  and  complied  with  by  the 
United  States  Government,  but  most  of  them  have  been  entirely 
and  persistently  disregarded.  In  expectation,  however,  of  the 
immediate  ratification  of  all  the  stipulations  entered  into,  the 
Indians  were  all  removed  from  their  lands  in  the  Rogue-river 
country  to  Siletz  reservation  at  the  close  of  the  war  above  refeiTed 
to.  Here  they  have  been  kept  ever  since  as  prisoners  of  war, 
supported  by  a  removal  and  subsistence  fund,  appropriations  for 
which,  varying  from  $10,000  to  $30,000,  have  been  annually 
made  by  Congress.  For  sixteen  years  this  scant,  irregular,  and 
uncertain  charity,  doled  out  to  them  from  time  to  time,  has  been 
the  only  evidence  they  have  received  that  they  were  not  utterly 
forgotten  by  the  Government.  For  sixteen  years  they  have  been 
fed  upon  promises  that  were  made  only  to  be  broken,  and  their 


APPENDIX. 


687 


heart;  have  sickened  wiih  "hope  dcfon-ed."  For  sixteen  jears 
they  have  seen  the  white  man  gathering  in  annually  his  golden 
han't  sts  from  the  lauds  which  they  .surrendered;  and  for  all  those 
sixteen  loMg,  weary  j'ears  they  have  waited,  and  waited  in  vain, 
for  the  fulfilment  of  the  solemn  pledges  with  which  the  white  man 
bought  those  lauds.  What  wonder  is  it  that,  suspicious  and  dis- 
trustful as  they  are  by  nature,  the}'  should,  under  such  tuition, 
cease  to  have  any  faith  in  the  viliitt;  man's  word,  or  to  heed  his 
solemn  preachments  about  education  and  civilization?  "Who  can 
blame  them  if,  after  such  an  experience,  they  come  to  regard  the 
whole  white  race,  from  the  Great  Father  down,  as  a  race  of  liars 
and  cheats,  using  their  superior  knowledge  to  defraud  the  poor 
Indian?  And  is  it  amiizing  that,  with  such  an  eminent  example 
before  them,  they  should  grow  treacherous  and  deceitful  as  they 
gi'ow  in  knowledge ;  or  that  they  should  use  everj'  possil)le  exer- 
tion to  escape  from  the  restraints  which,  as  they  believe,  tlie  white 
man  has  imposed  upon  them  only  for  the  purpose  of  defrauding 
them?  In  my  judgment  it  is  safe  to  assert  that  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  their  restiveness  and  indocility  is  justly-  altrilnitable  to  this 
cause.  I  am  fully  satisfied  that  it  has  more  than  doubled  the  dif- 
ficulty of  controlling  and  managing  them  for  the  past  eigiit  years. 
So  thoroughly  have  I  appreciated  this  fact,  that  I  have  again  and 
again  urged,  in  my  annual  reports,  the  necessity  of  entering  into 
treaties  with  the  Indians  at  this  agency  who  are  not  now  parties 
to  anj*  stipulations.  Feeling  as  I  do  that  the  neglect  with  which 
these  Indians  have  been  treated  in  this  particular  has  been  most 
unwise  as  well  as  grossly  unjust,  I  cannot  permit  this  last  oppor- 
tunit}'  of  expressing  myself  otficially  on  the  subject  to  pass  with- 
out again  earnestly  urging  a  speedy  correction  of  this  gi-ievous 
error  ard  wrong. 

Notwithstanding  the  many  embarrassments  with  which  I  have 
had  to  contend  in  the  management  of  the  afl'airs  of  this  agency,  I 
am  fully  satisfied  that  no  Indians  on  this  coast  have  made  any 
more  rapid  advancement  than  those  under  my  charge,  in  industry 
and  civilization.  When  I  entered  upon  the  discharge  of  my  duties 
as  agent,  eight  years  ago,  I  found  the  Indians  in  almost  a  wild 
state,  kept  together  and  controlled  by  military  force.  This  con- 
dition of  things  rapidly  disappeared  ;  and  for  the  past  four  or  five 
years  I  have  succeeded  in  keeping  the  Indians  generally  upon  the 


688 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


reservation,  and  in  controlling  them  without  nny  other  aid  than  a 
very  small  corps  of  employes.  And  when  I  turned  over  the 
agency  to  ray  successor  the  otate  of  discipline  was  far  better  thaa 
it  was  at  any  time  when  the  f  gent  had  the  assistance  of  a  detach- 
mei^t  of  soldiers  to  enforce  his  orders.  Besides,  the  Indians  have, 
many  of  them,  attained  a  comparatively  high  degree  of  pr'^ficiency 
in  the  useful  arts.  About  all  the  mechanical  work  needed  on  the 
reservatica  can  now  be  done  by  them.  Indeed,  so  great  has  been 
the  improvement  amon^  them  in  every  respect  that,  in  my  judg- 
ment, many  of  them  are  to-day  capable  of  becoming  citizens  of 
the  United  States,  and  should  be  admitted  to  citizenship  as  soon 
as  circumstancss  will  permit.  Knowing  as  I  do  the  liberality  of 
your  views  ou  the  subject  of  the  cqualitj'  of  men,  I  feel  confident 
that  you  will  spare  no  effort  in  j-our  power  to  bring  about  this 
state  of  things  at  as  early  a  day  as  possible. 

Before  closing  this  report  permit  me  to  make  one  suggestion  as 
to  the  mrnagoment  of  the  Indian  agencies  under  the  sj'stem  lately' 
adopted  by  the  Government.  I  am  satisfied  that,  under  this  sys- 
tem, it  would  be  a  matter  of  ecoijomy,  as  v.oll  as  a  benefit  to  the 
Indians,  to  place  the  whole  subject  under  the  immediate  control  of 
the  superintendent,  doing  away  with  agents  entirely.  Each  reser- 
vation could  be  managed  by  a  sub-agent  appointed  by  the  sup  ma- 
teudent,  and  subject  to  his  supervision  and  control.  The  superin- 
tendent should  then  be  held  strictly  responsible  for  the  management 
of  the  reservations  or  agencies  within  his  jurisdiction,  and  the 
various  sub-ag?nts  and  employes  ehould  be  made  accountable  to 
him  alone.  The  disbursements  could  be  made  by  the  superintend- 
ent, and  the  accounts  for  the  Avhole  superinteudency  could  bo  kept 
in  his  ollice.  The  advantages  of  this  system  would,  undoubtedly, 
be  great.  It  would  reduce  considerably  the  machinery  of  the 
Indian  Department,  and  would  simplify  all  its  processes.  Besides, 
it  would  render  those  an  >  had  the  management  of  the  dilferent 
loservations  amenable  for  theu'  conduct  not  to  a  distant  authority, 
but  to  one  at  home.  Their  acts  would  thus  be  judged,  and  con- 
demned or  approved,  as  the  case  might  require,  in  every  instance 
by  one  who  would  have,  to  a  great  extent,  a  personal  acquaintance 
with  all  the  circurattcnces.  Under  the  present  arrrangement  the 
Indian  Department  's  little  better  than  a  gigantic  circumlocution 
ofiice,  in  which  everything  is  done  by  indirect  and  circuitous 


^ 


APPENDIX. 


689 


I 


methods.  Every  agent  renders  his  account,  and  is  responsible 
(nominally)  to  the  central  office  at  Washington,  and  not  to  his 
immediate  superior.  J.n  this  labyrinth  of  routine  and  red-tape 
official  incompetency  and  dishonesty  may  often  hide  securely.  On 
the  other  hand,  wise  management  and  worth  frequently  escape 
notice  altogether, or  receive  censure  instead  of  commendation.  In 
fact,  there  are  in  each  superintendcncy  so  many  different  centres  of 
power  and  influence,  each  of  which  must  be  watched  from  the  head 
of  the  department,  that  the  view  is  distracted  and  bewildered,  and 
official  accountability  degenerates  into  a  mere  farce.  The  super- 
intendent, thougii  he  has  a  sort  of  supervision  of  the  different 
agencies,  is  yet  really  powerless  to  correct  abuses  which  may  come 
to  his  notice.  His  subordinates  are  not  responsible  to  him,  and 
he  can  do  no  more  than  report  their  incompetence  or  misconduct 
to  the  common  superior  of  all,  and  then  await  the  tedious  processes 
of  circumlocution.  His  jurisdiction  is,  in  fact,  merely  formal, 
rather  than  actual,  anu  he  is  not  responsible  for  the  conduct  of  his 
subordinates ;  there  is  but  little  motive  for  him  to  exercise  even 
the  slight  power  which  he  has  The  only  remedy  is  to  give  liim 
full  authority  over  all  tLv.  agents  and  sub-agents,  and  to  make  him 
personally  accountable  for  their  official  acts. 

I  think  that  the  necessity  for  this  change  m  now  more  urgent 
than  ever  before.  As  a  religious  element  has  been  infused  into 
the  mauagement  of  Indian  affairs,  and  as  agents  are  appointed 
upon  the  recommendations  of  the  different  churches,  there  is 
danger  that,  in  the  search  for  piety  in  those  who  aspire  to  office, 
certain  other  very  respectable  and  necessary  qualities  may  be  lost 
sight  of.  It  is  quite  as  needful  that  appointees  should  have  some 
talent  for  affairs  as  that  they  should  have  the  spirit  and  form  of 
godliness  ;  yet  the  former  does  not  always  accompany  the  latter. 
Many  very  good  and  pious  men  are  but  children  in  the  business  of 
the  world.  It  is  also  a  fact  of  common  experience  that  if  religious 
bodies  are  left  to  select  men  for  responsible  positions  of  any  sort, 
they  are  apt  to  choose  them  more  on  account  of  their  zeal  in  the 
service  of  God  or  of  some  gift  of  exJiortation  or  prayer,  than  on 
account  of  capability  for  business.  I  know  that  thus  far  the 
President  has  been  very  fortunate  in  his  selections  of  men  to  carry 
out  bis  new  "  Indian  policy ; "  but  depending,  as  he  must,  upon 
the  recommendation  of  church  organizations  in  these  matters,  ho 


' 


1' 


690 


WIGWAM  AND  WAEPATH. 


is  liable  hereafter  to  make  the  mistake  I  have  mentioned,  and 
appoint  men  to  office  whose  piety  constitutes  their  only  fitness  for 
the  positions  they  are  called  upon  to  fill.  It  is  in  view  of  this 
danger  that  I  particularly  recommend  the  propriety  of  making  the 
change  suggested  above. 

With  many  thanks  for  the  distinguished  consideration  which  I 
have  received  at  your  hands  in  my  official  dealings  with  you,  I 
have  the  honor  to  be,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

BEN.  SIMPSON, 
Late  United  States  Indian  Agent, 


Hex.  A.  B.  Meacbau, 

Superintendent  Indian  Affairs  in  Oregon, 


APPENDIX  TO  CHAPTER  EIGHT. 


Office  Suft.  Ihdian  Affairs,  Salek,  Oresoic,  May  23,  1870. 

Sm:  —  Having  just  returned  from  an  official  visit  to  Grand 
Ronde  Reservation,  I  desire  to  call  attention  to  a  few  items  that 
are  of  importance :  — 

First.   The  Indians  have  an  unusual  crop  in  prospect. 

Second.  They  fully  realize  the  advantages  to  result  from  having 
lands  allotted  in  severalty,  and  therefrom  arise  questions  which  I 
propose  to  submit.     (See  paper  marked  "  A.") 

Third.  The  mills  built  fifteen  years  since  are  totally  unfit  for 
service,  for  the  reason  that  they  were  not  located  with  good  judg- 
ment, in  this  that  they  were  built  on  a  low,  flat,  muddy  piece  of 
river  bottom,  composed  of  alluvial  deposit  that  washes  away  almost 
like  sand  or  snow,  having  neither  "bed  rock  nor  hard  pan"  for 
foundation,  constantly  settling  out  of  shape  and  damaging  machin- 
ery, besides  being  threatened  with  destruction  at  every  overflow. 

The  lower  frames  of  both  mills,  but  more  especially  that  of  the 
saw-mill,  are  so  rotten  that  thej''  would  not  stand  alone  if  the 
props  and  refuse  slates  from  the  saw  were  removed. 

The  flour  mill  is  a  huge,  unfinished  structure,  supported  on 
wooden  blocks  or  stilts,  and  double  the  proper  dimension,  with  an 
old  patched-up  wooden  water-wheel  that  has  been  a  constant  bill 
of  expense  ijr  ten  years  ;  machinery  all  worn  out,  even  the  bolting 
apparatus  rat-eaten  and  worthless,  but  with  one  42-inch  French 
Burr,  that,  together  with  mandril,  are  as  good  as  new. 

The  saw-mill  is  the  old-fashioned  "Single  Sash"  with  flutter 
wheel,  only  capable,  when  in  best  repair,  of  making  600  to  1,000 
feet  of  lumber  per  day ;  but  utterly  worthless  at  present  for  several 
reasons,  the  chief  of  which  is  want  of  water.  The  "dam"  was 
originallj'  built  about  one-quarter  of  a  mile  above  the  mills,  at  an 
enormous  expense  to  Government,  across  a  stream  (that  is  four 


692 


WIGWAM   AND   WARPATH. 


times  as  large  as  need  be  for  such  mill  purposes) ,  with  soft,  flat 
alluvial  porous  banks  and  mud  bottom. 

The  history  of  said  d  \m  is,  that  it  has  broken  tiventy  times  in 
fourteen  years,  each  time  carrying  away  mud  enough  at  the  ends 
of  the  dam  to  make  room  for  each  successive  freshet. 

I  believe  that  history,  since  inspecting  the  "  works,"  as  evi- 
dence is  in  sight  to  show  where  thousands  of  daj's'  work  have  been 
done,  and  many  greenbacks  "  sunk." 

I  called  to  my  assistance  Agent  Lafollette  and  George  Tillottson, 
of  Dallas,  Polk  Count}',  a  man  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 
successful  and  practical  mill-builder  in  our  State,  who  stands 
unimpeached  as  a  gentleman  of  honestj'  and  candor.  The  result 
of  the  conference  was,  that  it  would  require  $5,000  to  build  a  dam 
that  would  be  permanent ;  that  all  the  lower  frame-work  of  both 
mills  would  require  rebuilding  at  a  cost  of  82,000,  and  that  at 
least  $1,000  would  be  required  to  put  machinery  in  good  working 
condition ;  and,  when  all  was  done,  these  people  would  have  only 
tolerable  good  old  mills,  patched  up  at  a  cost  of  $8,000. 

But  mills  are  indispensable  civilizers,  and  must  be  built.  I  am 
determined  to  start  these  Indians  off  on  the  new  track  in  good 
shape. 

There  are  three  several  branches  coming  in  above  the  old  mills, 
any  one  of  which  has  abundant  motive  power.  On  one  of  these 
creeks  a  fall  of  thirty  feet  can  be  obtained  by  cutting  a  race  at  the 
bend  of  a  rocky  cascade,  taking  the  water  away  from  the  danger 
of  freshets,  and  building  the  mills  on  good,  solid  foundations,  con- 
venient of  access  by  farmers  and  to  unlimited  forests  of  timber. 

Mr.  Tillottson  estimates  the  total  cost  of  removing  the  old  mills 
and  such  parts  as  are  useful,  and  rebuilding  on  the  new  site  a 
first-rate  No.  1  double  circular  saw-mill,  with  Laffelle  turbine 
water-wheel,  all  the  modern  improvements  attached ;  same  kind 
of  water-wheel  for  flour-mill,  with  new  bolting  apparatus,  etc.,  at 
about  $4,000,  exclusive  of  Indian  labor. 

I  submitted,  in  full  council,  to  the  agent  and  Indians,  the  proposi- 
tion to  apply  funds  alreadj'  appropriated  for  the  repair  of  agency 
buildings,  a  portion  of  the  Umpqua  and  Calapooia  School  Fund, 
that  has  accumulated  to  upwards  of  $5,000,  and  so  much  of 
Annuity  Fund  as  may  be  necessary  to  this  entei-prise,  on  the  con- 
dition that  the  Indians  were  to  do  all  but  the  "  mechanical  work." 


APPENDIX. 


693 


The  matter  was  fully  explained,  and,  without  a  dissenting  voice, 
they  vjted  to  have  the  mills,  if  furnished  tools,  beef  and  flour. 

The  agent  has  now  on  hand  a  considerable  amount  of  flour. 
For  beef,  I  propose  to  use  a  immber  of  the  old,  worn-out  oxen,  as 
they  are  now  fifteen  or  twenty  years  old,  worthless  for  work  and 
dying  ofl*  with  old  age. 

To  sum  up,  I  have  put  this  enterprise  in  motion,  and  propose  to 
have  the  new  saw-mill  making  lumber  in  sixty  days,  and  the  flour- 
mill  grinding  in  ninety  days. 

I  now  ask  permission  to  apply  the  funds  I  have  named  to  this 
object,  fully  satisfied  in  my  own  mind  that  it  is  for  the  benefit  of 
these  people.  If  it  cannot  be  granted,  then  I  will  insist  on  funds, 
that  may  be  so  applied,  being  furnished  from  the  general  funds  of 
the  department.  These  Indians  must  have  a  mill ;  besides,  it  would 
reflect  on  the  present  administration  of  Indian  affairs,  to  turn  them 
over  to  the  world  without  that  indispensable  appurtenance  of 
civilization. 

Klamath  Mill  is  a  monument  of  pride,  and  has  done  much  to 
redeem  the  reputation  of  our  department ;  and  I  propose,  when  I 
retire,  to  leave  every  reservation  supplied  with  substantial  im- 
provements of  like  character.  Klamath  flour-mill  is  now  under 
wa}',  and  will  grind  the  growing  crops. 

Going  out  of  the  ordinary  groove,  and  wishing  you  to  be  fully 

posted  about  such  transactions,  is  my  apolog}'  for  inflicting  this 

long  communication. 

Very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A.   B.  MEACHAM, 

Supt.  Indian  Affairs  in  Oregon. 
Hon.  E.  D.  Pakker, 

Commissioner,  etc.,  Washington.)  D.  C. 


«A.'» 

I  respectfully  ask  for  instruction  in  regard  to  Indian  lands  ;  and 
as  the  time  for  allotment  is  near  at  hand,  it  is  necessary  that 
some  points  be  settled,  for  instance  :  — 

First.   Where  there  is  more  land  suitable  for  settlement  on  a 


694 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


reservation  than  is  required  to  fulfil  treaty  stipulations,  shall  more 
than  tht?  said  stipulated  number  of  acres  be  set  apart  to  the  indi- 
vidual Indian  ? 

Some  of  the  reservations  will  have  an  excess,  and  others  will 
fall  short  of  the  amount  required  to  comply  with  treaty  stipula- 
tions. In  some  instances,  where  the  excess  is  small,  it  would 
seem  proper  to  divide  pro  rata.  It  does  not  appear  that  any  of 
these  tribes  are  on  the  increase;  hence  no  necessity  exists  for  lands 
to  be  held  in  reserve  to  any  considerable  amount  for  future  allot- 
ment. When  possible,  I  would  favor  giving  them  more  than  the 
treaty  calls  for. 

Second.  When  less  land  than  is  necessary  to  comply  with  treaty 
is  found,  must  the  number  of  acres  be  cut  down  so  that  a  propor- 
tionate allotment  can  be  made  ?  Or  maj'  unoccupied  government 
lands  outside  be  allotted  to  Indians  belonging  to  the  reservation  ? 

Instances  will  occur  of  this  kind,  as  at  Warm  Springs,  where 
insufficient  lands  can  be  found,  and  a  few  families  who  are  well 
advanced  and  capable  of  taking  care  of  themselves  could  be 
located  outside.  I  am  in  favor  of  that  plan,  and  suggest,  if 
approved,  some  instructions  be  given  the  land  officers,  so  that  said 
location  can  be  legally  made. 

Tliird.  May  Indians  not  on  reservation  be  allotted  lands  on 
reservation.;  and  may  they  be  allotted  government  lands  not  on 
reservation? 

There  are  Indians  in  this  State,  that  have  never  yet  been  brought 
in,  that  can  be  induced  to  locate  under  the  system  of  allotment. 
And  when  all  parties  consent,  the}-  should  be  allowed  to  do  so. 
Again,  some  of  these  people  have  advanced  sufficiently,  hy  being 
among  white  persons,  to  locate  and  appreciate  a  h./me.  And 
there  are  a  few  instances  where  the  whites  would  not  object  to 
their  being  located  among  them. 

They  must  have  homes  allotted  them  somewhere,  and  the  sooner 
it  is  done  the  better  for  the  Indians. 

Fourth.  Are  not  Indians  who  have  never  been  on  reservation, 
citizens,  under  late  amendments  to  the  constitution  ;  and  have  they 
not  the  riglit,  without  further  legislation,  to  locate  lands,  and  do 
all  other  acts  that  other  citizens  may  rightfully  do  ? 

I  am  fullj'  aware  of  the  political  magnitude  of  this  question ; 
but  while  I  am  "  superintendent"  for  the  Indians  in  Oregon,  they 


APPENDIX. 


695 


shall  have  all  the'-  rights  if  in  my  power  to  secure  them,  whether 
on  or  off  reservations. 

Fifth.  Are  white  men  or  half-breeds,  who  are  hosbands  of  In- 
dian women,  who  do  now  belong,  or  have  belonged,  to  any  reser- 
vation, considered  as  Indians,  by  virtue  of  their  marriage  to  said 
Indian  women  in  making  the  allotment  of  lands? 

I  understand  that  all  half-breed  men  living  with  Indians  on 
reservations  are  considered  Indians  (but  always  allowed,  never- 
theless, to  vote  at  all  wliite  men's  elections) .  But  there  are  several 
Indian  women,  in  various  parts  of  the  country,  who  are  married  to 
white  and  half-breed  men,  and  the  question  is  asked,  whether  they 
are  not  entitled  to  land. 

Again,  there  are  Indian  women  living  with  white  men.  but  not 
married,  who  have  children  that  should  have  some  provision  made 
for  them. 

Sixth.  May  the  allotment  be  made  immediately  on  completion 
of  survey,  without  waiting  for  survey  to  be  approved  ? 

For  many  reasons  it  is  desirable  that  the  allotment  be  made  as 
early  as  possible,  so  that  the  people  may  prepare  for  winter.  They 
are  very  impatient,  and  I  hope  no  unnecessary  delay  will  be  made. 

Seventh.  Is  a  record  to  be  made  by  and  in  local  land  office  of 
sur\'eys  and  several  allotments?  Is  record  of  allotment  to  be 
made  in  county  records,  and  if  so,  how  is  the  expense  to  be  met? 

These  people  are  soon  to  be  as  other  citizens,  and  stand  on 
equal  footing.  I  have  no  doubt  about  the  propriety  and  necessity 
for  making  these  records,  but  so  as  to  close  up  all  the  gaps,  I 
want  to  be  instructed  to  have  it  done. 

A.  B.  MEACHAM, 
Superintendent  Indian  Affairs  in  Oregon. 


Department  of  the  Interior,  Office  or  Ivdiax  Affairs, 
WAsniNGTON,  D.C.,  June  2S,  1S71. 

Sm :  —  I  have  received  your  communication  of  the  '2od  ultimo, 
asking,  among  other  things,  instructions  concerning  certain  ques- 
tions which  present  themselves  for  settlement  in  the  allotment  of 
lands  in  severalty  to  Indians  upon  reservations  in  the  State  of 
Oregon. 


696 


WIGWAM  AND   WARPATH. 


\ 


In  reply  to  the  first  inquiry  therein  propounded,  you  are  informed 
that,  where  there  is  more  land  suitable  for  settlement  on  a  reser- 
vation than  is  required  to  fulfll  treaty  stipulations,  more  than  the 
number  of  acres  named  in  said  treaty  cannot  be  set  apart  to  each 
individual  Indian,  but  the  excess  must  be  held  in  common  for  the 
benefit  of  the  whole  tribe  or  band  occupying  the  reservation. 

Secondly.  Where  less  land  is  found  upon  a  reservation  than  is 
necessary  to  give  to  each  individual  or  family  the  full  quantity 
specified  in  the  treaty,  the  number  of  acres  so  allotted  may  Ue 
reduced  so  as  to  give  each  person  or  family  a  proportionate  share 
of  the  entire  quantity  available  for  purposes  of  allotment ;  but 
unoccupied  government  lands  lying  outside  of  the  boundaries  of  the 
reservation  cannot  be  used  to  complete  the  quantity  required  to 
fulfil  the  treaty  stipvilation. 

Tliirdly.  Indians  not  residing  on  a  reservation  cannot  receive 
allotments  of  lands  thereon,  neither  will  unoccupied  public  lands 
be  allotted  to  them. 

Fourthly.  Indians  residing  on  a  reservation,  and  living  in  a 
tribal  capacity,  do  not  become  citizens  of  the  United  States  by 
virtue  of  anj'  of  the  recent  amendments  to  the  constitution  of  the 
United  States.  Their  political  status  is  in  no  wise  affected  by 
such  amendments. 

Firthlj'.  In  case  where  white  men  or  half-breeds  have  married 
Indian  women,  and  said  white  men  or  half-breeds  have  been 
adopted  into  and  are  considered  members  of  the  tribe,  and  are 
living  with  their  families  on  the  tribal  reservation,  allotments 
may  be  made  to  them  in  the  same  manner  as  if  they  were  native 
Indians. 

In  cases  where  Indian  women  are  married  to  white  or  other  men, 
and  do  not  now  live  on  or  remove  to  a  tribal  reservation  previous 
to  the  time  of  making  the  allotments,  they  will  not  be  entitled  to 
receive  land  in  severalty. 

The  children  of  Indian  women  living  with  but  not  married  to 
white  men  will  not  be  allowed  selections  of  land  unless  they  shall 
take  up  their  residence  with  the  tribe  upon  the  reservation. 

Sixthlj'.  The  allotments  must  not  be  made  until  subdivisional 
surveys  are  completed  and  approved  by  the  proper  authority. 

Seventhly.  No  record  is  necessary  to  be  made  in  the  local  land 
office,  oi  the  county  records  of  the  county  or  counties  wherein  the 


APPENDIX. 


697 


several    reservatious  are  situated   of   the    survey  or  allotment 
thereof. 

Your  suggestions  regarding  the  erection  and  repair  of  mills  and 
mill-dams,  etc.,  and  the  application  of  funds  therefor,  will  be 
made  the  subject  of  a  future  communication. 

Very  respectfully. 

Your  obedient  servant, 
E.  S.  PARKER, 

Commissioner, 
A.  B.  Meacham,  Esq., 

Supt.  Indian  Affairs,  Salem,  Oregon. 


Office  Supt.  Indian  Affairs,  Salex,  Oregon,  May  30,  1870. 

CnAS.  Lafolletie,  Agent  Grarid  Bonde :  — 

Sir,  —  Mr.  Tillottson  reported  to  this  office  on  yesterday.  We 
have  decided  to  proceed  with  the  saw-mill  as  soon  as  j'ou  can  have 
Indian  laborers  to  assist.  It  is  desirable  that  we  push  this  enter- 
prise, and,  in  order  to  do  so,  it  would  seem  necessary  for  j'ou  to 
"  call  in"  enough  to  make  a  gang  of  say  twenty  workingmen  ;  and 
as  soon  as  this  is  done  notify  Mr.  Tillottson  at  Dallas.  I  have 
ordered  all  the  tools  required  to  he  forwarded  to  j-ou  at  Dayton ; 
and  have  no  doubt  they  will  be  awaiting  your  orders.  I  think  you 
can  send  immediately-  without  fear  of  disappointment.  In  the 
mean  time  you  will  arrange  siibsistencr  for  the  Indian  wuth  my 
parties.  It  would  be  well  also  to  assist  Mr.  Tillottson  about  a 
boarding-place.  My  arrangement  is,  that  "the  mechanics  are  to 
board  themselves  "  with  him ;  he  to  have  the  entire  control  of  the 
works,  we  to  furnish  the  laborers.  When  he  is  dissatisfied  with  the 
services,  to  certify  to  the  time  through  your  office,  and  forward  to 
me  for  payment.  I  think  it  best  not  to  transfci-  funds  until  an 
answer  is  obtained  from  the  commissioner  in  regard  to  diverting  the 
funds.  We  cannot  exjjend  or  anticipate  a  fund  not  j'ct  remitted, 
as  I  find  a  rule  laid  down  to  that  effect.  If  we  meet  with  a 
favorable  reply  we  will  then  proceed  with  the  flouring  mill.    You 


698 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


may  find  emplojinent,  while  waiting  for  tools  for  Mr.  Rcinliart,  at 
such  wages  as  vou  may  agree  upon.    Hoping  you  will  give  this 
enterprise  euiflcient  attention  to  secure  success,  etc., 
I  am  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A.   B.   MEACHAM, 
Supt.  Indian  Affairs,  Oregon. 


Office  Scpt.  Indian  Affaibs,  Saleu,  Obeoon,  Dec.  19,  1874. 
L.  S.  Dyeu,  Esq.,  Commissary  in  charge  Grand  Ronde :  — 

Sib,  —  Col.  Tliompson,  surveyor,  has  been  employed  by  me  to 
assist  you  in  mu    iig  the  allotment  of  lands  on  Grand  Ronde. 

Herewith  find  the  only  instructions  furnished  this  office,  whichj 
together  with  the  copies  of  treaties  in  your  office,  it  is  hoped  may 
be  sufficient  guide  in  making  the  allotment. 

As  arranged  during  my  late  visit,  all  matters  of  dispute  about 
priority  of  rights,  etc.,  must  be  settled  by  a  Board,  consisting  of 
Commissary  L.  S.  Dyer,  Col.  D.  P.  Thompson  and  W.  P.  Eaton, 
or  any  other  you  may  designate  ;  if  Mr.  Eaton  is  unable  to  act ; 
and,  on  request  of  the  Indians,  you  will  add  to  said  Board  three 
Indians,  who  are  not  interested  parties  in  any  matter  under  consid- 
eration by  your  Board. 

Great  patience  may  be  required  in  settling  the  differences  that 
will  arise,  and  I  trust  that  you  will,  at  all  times,  bear  in  mind  that 
you  are  laboring  for  a  race  who  are  docile  and  reasonable  when 
they  are  made  fully  to  understand  the  wherefore,  etc.,  of  any 
proposition. 

I  regret  that  the  Commissioner  of  Indian  Affairs  has  not 
furnished  this  office  with  more  specific  instructions  in  the  prem- 
ises. 

This  order  to  make  allotment  is  in  anticipation  of  orders  from 
the  commissioner,  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  will  be  forwarded  at  an 
early  day.  At  all  events,  the  necessity  of  immediate  action  is 
obvious, 

July  20th,  Wm.  R.  Dunbar  was  instructed  to  enroll  all  the  Indians 
of  Grand  Ronde  Agency,  including  those  of  Nes tucker  and  Tilla- 


APPENDIX. 


699 


mook.  Mr.  Dunbar  reported  the  curolment  complete,  a  copj'  of 
which  you  will  find  in  j-our  olllce. 

It  is  possible  that  some  changes  have  occurred  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  families,  of  which  you  will  take  note,  and  correct  the  same 
in  making  statement  of  allotment. 

You  will  also  be  particular  to  see  that  the  original  and  present 
name  and  tribe,  together  with  sex,  estimated  age,  and  relationship 
to  families  with  whom  they  are  residing  at  the  time  of  allotment,  be 
identified  with  the  number  of  the  particular  tract  allotted  to  such 
person  or  family. 

In  this  connection  it  is  necessary,  in  cases  of  plurality  of  wives, 
that  each  man  shall  designate  one  woman  to  be  his  legal  wife,  and 
all  others  to  be  members  of  his  family,  with  the  privilege  of  form- 
ing other  marriage  relations,  taking  vrith  them  the  lands  allotted 
in  their  respective  names. 

Orphan  children,  who  are  attached  to  families,  must  have  the 
same  rights. 

It  would  seem  proper  that,  so  far  as  possible,  these  people 
should  be  allowed  to  retain  their  present  homes,  and  to  adjust 
their  respective  rights  among  themselves  ;  but  it  will  be  necessary, 
in  some  cases,  to  assume  control  and  adjud'rate  differences. 

Inasmuch  as  there  arc  several  treaties  in  force  with  the  Grand 
Ronde  Indians,  in  the  complications  arising  therefrom  I  would 
advise  that  the  treaty  Avith  Willamette  Vallc}*  Indians  be  adopted 
as  the  guide,  without  regard  to  the  c^'jr  treaties. 

Let  the  allotment  be  uniform  to  all  persons  entitled  to  lands, 
as  per  instructions  of  commissioner  in  reply  to  queries,  and  above 
referred  to. 

Should  any  number  of  j'our  people  elect  to  remove  to  Nestucker, 
and  there  take  lands  in  severalty,  it  would  seem  right,  perhaps,  to 
do  so.  Land  will  be  ordered,  surveyed  at  the  places  above  re- 
ferred to,  and  possibly  also  at  Salmon  river. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  other  instructions  or  laws  to  guide  j'ou, 
except  this :  In  absence  of  law,  do  justice  fairly  and  impartially. 
Law  is  supposed  to  be  in  harmou}'  with  justice  and  common  sense  ; 
and,  if  it  is  not,  it  is  not  good  law. 

Fully  realizing  the  dilBculties  in  your  way  in  fulfilling  this  order, 
and  hanng  confidence  in  your  integritj'  and  abillt}',  I  can  only  say, 
in  conclusion,  push  this  matter  through,  and  furnish  this  ofllce,  at 


700 


WIGWAM  AND  WARPATH. 


an  early  clay,  full  report  of  your  doings,  together  with  statistical 
table  of  allotments  made  under  the  rules  and  instructions  flir- 
nished  you. 

It  may  be  observed,  by  reading  the  several  treaties,  that  the 
amount  of  land  stipulated  to  be  allotted  dillers  somewhat  in  the 
amounts  speciiied. 

From  surveyors'  reports,  it  appears  that  there  is  some  deflcicnc}' 
of  lands  suitable  for  Indian  settlement,  and  since  the  several 
tribes  are  mixed  up,  and  to  avoid  confusion,  I  have  indicated  the 
treaty  with  the  Indians  of  the  Willamette  Valley  as  the  proper 
one  to  govern  your  action. 

Now,  if  the  question  should  be  raised  by  the  Umpquas,  and 
they  refuse  to  accept  the  amount  named  in  the  treaty  referred  to 
(Willamette  Valley) ,  you  will  propose  to  the  Umpquas  to  have 
the  excess  claimed  by  them  set  off  to  them  of  timber  lots ;  or 
otherwise  let  the  whole  matter  stand  for  further  instructions. 
Should  the  question  come  up  at  an  early  day  please  notifj'  me, and, 
if  possible,  I  will  in  person  adjust  the  matter. 

I  think,  however,  that  if  you  make  the  proposition  to  the 
Indians  to  settle  jt  before  allotment,  they  will  agree  to  the  Wil- 
lamette treaty,  and  I  will  arrange  for  the  acknowledgment,  on 
their  part,  of  the  fulfilment  of  treaty  on  the  part  of  the  Govern- 
ment hereafter. 

Very  respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

A.  B.  MEACHAM, 
SuperirUendent  Indian  AJairs  in  Oregon. 


italistical 
ions  fiir- 

that  the 
at  in  the 

Icflciency 
several 
nitcd  the 
le  liroper 

[uas,  and 

blurred  to 

to  have 

lots ;  or 

;ructions. 

me,  and, 

n  to  the 
the  Wil- 

^ment,  on 
Govern- 


Oregon. 


I 


ANNOUNCEMENT. 


*  ♦  » 


The  Ymdcrsigned,  to  whom  alone  Mr.  Meacham  has  hocn  pleased  to  giro 
■paco  for  an  advertisement  in  "The  Wigwam  and  Warpath,"  will  soon 
publish  a  work,  whoso  title  will  be :  "  The  Conditions  op  SnccESs,  in 
ITS  Belation  to  the  Day  Labobeb,  the  Business  Man,  the  Profes- 
sional Man  and  the  Scholab." 

The  work  is  designed  to  furnish  a  key  to  success,  not  alono  or  chiefly 
in  the  art  or  means  of  acquiring  wealth,  but  success  in  a  higher  and 
cobler  sense,  indicating  some  of  the  best  methods  of  reaching  the  intel- 
lect aud  the  heart,  as  well  as  the  purse. 

The  work  is  mainly  a  result  of  the  author's  own  experiences  and  strug- 
gles—  an  outgrowth  of  the  practical  methods  by  which  he  has  secured,  at 
least,  many  of  the  objects  not  altogether  unworthy  of  his  ambition  and 
hopes. 

The  unfolding  of  the  grand  principles  or  laws  of  Compensation,  even 
in  every-day  life,  to  which  the  author  devotes  some  space,  will,  it  is 
believed,  have  a  tendency  to  increase  the  faitli,  or,  at  least,  quiet  the 
fears,  of  those  who  are  often  crushed  by  what  appears  to  them  the  heavy 
strokes  of  Providence,  or  the  inevitable  flat  of  Destiny ;  but,  rightly  under- 
stood, proves  to  be  the  true  Magician  of  Life,  which  evokes  light  from 
shadows,  and  a  calm  from  storms. 

D.  L.  EMERSON. 
Boston,  July,  1875. 


